Abduction
The Search
Joog, the Giant
The City of Rats
Chamber of Horrors
Pew Mogel
The Flying Terror
The Reptile Pit
Attack on Helium
Two Thousand Parachutes
A Daring Plan
The Fate of a Nation
Panic
Adventure's End

Foreword
Betrayed
U Dan
The Morgors of Sasoom...
...And the Savators
I Would Be a Traitor
Escape!
Pho Lar
In the Arena
To Zanor!

INTRODUCTIONTHE PUBLICATION OF JOHN CARTER OF MARS is an historic event for a number
of reasons.
First, and most obviously, it is the long and eagerly awaited "eleventh
book" of the Martian series by Edgar Rice Burroughs. For sixteen years,
ever since the appearance of LLANA OF GATHOL, the tenth book in the series
and the last of Burroughs' works to see print during the author's life,
there has been a constant desire by his many followers to see the two remaining
Barsoomian adventures appear in book form. They are at last available,
in the present volume, to Burroughs' myriad fans and admirers.

The second historical aspect of JOHN CARTER OF MARS is its very name.
Although JOHN CARTER OF MARS is a "natural" title for a book in the Martian
series, it was never so used by Burroughs himself. It has been applied
to a number of adaptations of the Barsoomian tales, including two completely
different children's books and a comic magazine, but has never before been
used as the title of a "real" book.

Regarding the two short novels (or novellas, or novelettes, or even
long short stories, the title is not worth the quibble) that make up JOHN
CARTER OF MARS, each has a fascinating tale of its own, quite aside from
the story content itself. John Carter and the Giant of Mars (or Giant for
short) first appeared in AMAZING STORIES magazine for January, 1941, and
created an immediate furore. Dozens of readers wrote to the magazine challenging
the authenticity of the story, which was stoutly defended by Raymond A.
Palmer, the editor. The complaints were based mainly on two points.

For one, many of Burroughs' more dedicated and scholarly devotees found
points on which the setting of Giant conflicted with the pseudo-world Burroughs
ad constructed in the rest of the series. Specifically, there is the use
of the three-legged rat in Giant, whereas Burroughs had quite graphically
described the Martian rat, or ulsio, in CHESSMEN OF MARS, as "fierce and
unlovely ... many-legged and hairless."

Similarly, the imaginary geography of Giant has been criticized as placing
cities in regions where other stories indicate only deserts or swamps,
and including, without explanation, imaginary creatures and devices present
in no other Barsoomian tale.

Another objection to Giant is the fact that it is narrated in the third
person, while the Martian series was customarily told in first person.
This charge, however, fails on two books, the fourth and fifth in the series.
The fourth book, THUVIA, MAID OF MARS, is told in standard third-person
style. The fifth, CHESSMEN, opens with an introduction in which Edgar Rice
Burroughs recounts, in first person, the circumstances in which John Carter
told him, Burroughs, the tale contained in the book.

The story CHESSMEN is told in third person, but this argument against
Giant is mitigated by the first person introduction. Not so with THUVIA,
which pretty thoroughly demolishes the "first-person / third-person" case
against Giant.In planning the current book, JOHN CARTER OF MARS, it was
my hope to verify or refute the charges against Giant of Mars once and
for all. In order to do this, I wrote directly to Ray Palmer and asked
him outright whether (a) the story had actually been written by Edgar Rice
Burroughs, and (b) if it had, whether or not Palmer or anyone else had
tampered with the manuscript before publication; or (c) if it had not been
written by Burroughs, who did write the story.Simultaneously I wrote to
Hulbert Burroughs, the author's son, and asked him to check through his
father's files and records, and determine if possible (a) whether his father
did write Giant and (b) if he did, whether a copy of the manuscript still
existed for purposes of comparison with the magazine version.Palmer's reply
was the first to arrive, and in it he stated that (a) the story had indeed
been written by Burroughs and (b) no one had changed it in any way prior
to publication. Unfortunately, according to Palmer, the manuscript had
been kept in the files of the Ziff-Davis Publishing Company, publisher
of AMAZING STORIES, and had been destroyed some years later in a records-clearance
move.

An initial reply from Hulbert Burroughs was equally mystifying -- a
search of the records of Edgar Rice Burroughs, Inc., had produced an entry
for the sale of John Carter and the Giant of Mars to Ziff-Davis. But an
examination of ERB's notebook, in which the author usually kept painstaking
track of starting, completion, and revision dates of all his stories, did
not uncover the expected entry for Giant.

More or less reconciled, by now, to permanent mystification regarding
the authorship of Giant, I was surprised and gratified to receive a further
communication from Hulbert Burroughs, unravelling the mystery at last.
Hulbert had continued to investigate both business and personal records
of his father, and had discussed the question with other members of the
Burroughs family. The story which was pieced together is this: In 1940
the Whitman Publishing Company, which had published children's adaptations
of a number of Tarzan stories with great success, asked ERB for a "Big
Little Book" featuring John Carter. The Big Little Books were a children's
series following an extremely rigid format: stories had to be 15,000 words
in length, and so constructed that they could be published with alternating
pages of text and drawings, each picture illustrating the action depicted
on the facing page of text.

Edgar Rice Burroughs felt uncomfortable writing to the strict formula
of this series, and so he asked his son John Coleman Burroughs, who was
also the illustrator of the book, to collaborate with him in producing
the story. The result was a tale, essentially similar to John Carter and
the Giant of Mars, which appeared under the Whitman impress with the same
title as the present volume: JOHN CARTER OF MARS.At the same time, Ray
Palmer of AMAZING STORIES was seeking a new Barsoomian adventure from ERB,
to feature in his magazine. Taking the as-yet unpublished collaboration
as his basis, Edgar Rice Burroughs lengthened it by some 5000 words and
adapted it "upward" for adult readership, producing finally John Carter
and the Giant of Mars.

The longer version appeared in AMAZING and the shorter one in the Whitman
book. The text used in the present volume is the AMAZING version. Skeleton
Men of Jupiter, the second story in this book, offers no such problem as
does Giant of Mars. By contrast with Giant, Skeleton Men received nothing
but extravagant praise from readers at the time of its first appearance
in AMAZING in February, 1943. Its name may sound odd for a "Martian" story,
and indeed, most of the action of Skeleton Men takes place not on Mars,
but on Jupiter. However, the hero is John Carter, and the basic story rationale
is part of the Martian series, so the tale well fits into the present book.Skeleton
Men of Jupiter was intended by Burroughs as the opening episode of the
group of interconnected novelettes, probably to number four, which would
have become a John Carter novel in the fashion of LLANA OF GATHOL or the
Carson Napier book ESCAPE ON VENUS. This form of quasiserialization was
one with which Burroughs experimented quite successfully in the early 1940s.

However, wartime service as a correspondent in the Pacific reduced Burroughs'
fiction output nearly to zero, and after the end of the war his health
prevented ERB from resuming his former pace. As a result, the continuing
episodes of John Carter's Jupiterian adventure were never written. Still,
Skeleton Men is a complete adventure story, and an excellent one.

Writing (or at least dreaming) its sequels has become a favorite pastime
of Burroughs fans over the years, and the reader is invited to join in
the fun. The Foreword of Skeleton Men of Jupiter, by the way, is published
here for the first time. When the magazine version of the story appeared
twenty-one years ago, the editor may have felt that a Foreword would serve
only to put off readers, while a policy of "On with the story" above all
else, would have
greater commercial appeal.

He may well have been right for the pulp magazine audience of a generation
ago, but assuming the readers of books to have a slightly more serious
and patient outlook on literature, I have restored the Foreword, obtaining
its text from a photostat of ERB's original manuscript, kindly furnished
by Hulbert Burroughs.If you are completely intolerant of forewords and
wish, like the magazine audience of 1943, to plunge directly into the narration,
you are welcome to skip the first 132 words of Skeleton Men of Jupiter.
I personally find them a charming prelude and a minor but fascinating insight
into the personality of Edgar Rice Burroughs, science-fictioneer.

The Martian series, of which this book is the final volume, is regarded
by many readers as Burroughs' greatest sustained performance as a writer.
Of course his Tarzan stories are the more famous, due largely to the popularity
of their motion-picture adaptations. And there are many moments of excellence
in the Venus and Pellucidar series, as there are in such "singles" as THE
MOON MEN, THE MUCKER, THE LAND THAT TIME FORGOT, and I AM A BARBARIAN.Still,
for eleven volumes, the adventures of Captain John Carter of Virginia,
upon the planet Barsoom, and the comparable deeds of heroism performed
by Burroughs' other Martian heroes, represent a series of tales unmatched
in their author's works, and, for that matter, unequalled in the annals
of science-fiction adventure writing

The first three volumes in the series, originally appearing between
1912 and 1914, actually constitute a single super-epic. In them, John Carter,
a Confederate officer mustered out of service at the close of the Civil
War, is miraculously transported to the planet Mars, known to its inhabitants
as Barsoom. He arrives in the middle of a desert, naked and unarmed, wholly
ignorant of local customs and conditions, unable to speak the language
of the natives (in fact, knowing nothing about the natives, or even that
there are any). Shortly encountering a group of barbarian nomads, John
Carter is taken prisoner, and would seem to face a life of degraded slavery
ending in early and ignominious death.

Instead, through the display of courage and skill, Captain Carter rises
to the position of Warlord of Mars, having along the way fought his way
from pole to pole of the red planet, returned to Earth for a period of
several years and then travelled again to Barsoom, encountered a variety
of strange races of men and beasts, weird nations and weirder peoples.
He has, in addition, gained the lesser title of Prince of Helium (not the
inert gas, but the leading city-empire of Barsoom), and has won the hand
of the incomparable Dejah Thoris, Princess of Helium.

The volumes in this trilogy are A PRINCESS OF MARS, THE GODS OF MARS,
and THE WARLORD OF MARS. Their enduring qualities have led to their translation
into many languages, including even an Esperanto edition of PRINCESS. Further,
the same book has been issued by Oxford University Press in its "Stories
Told and Retold" series, as a "teaching novel" for school use. Other authors
in the "Stories Told and Retold" series include Dickens' Doyle, Shakespeare,
Stevenson, Defoe, Wells, Sabatini, Anthony Hope, and Nordoff and Hall.A
mixed roll, these, and yet all have in common the characteristic of a literary
quality which endures beyond their times, and makes their works part of
the enduring body of the literature of the English language which stands
a solid chance of living for centuries to come. The presence here of Burroughs'
A PRINCESS OF MARS is perhaps the first important sign that this author,
whose works have enjoyed public acclaim from the first, is beginning to
receive the acceptance of educators and serious critics as well.

Having raised Carter, in three books, from a naked and unarmed stranger
to the Warlord of the red planet, Burroughs faced the question, What do
you do for an encore? Faced with the same question in his Tarzan series,
Burroughs carried the Ape Man off into a seemingly interminable series
of exotic settings, lost cities and forgotten empires dotting the African
landscape so that they must ultimately have crowded one another into the
sea!

In the Martian series, ERB tried another approach, I think a more daring
one, and a completely successful one. Transferring his attention from John
Carter and Dejah Thoris, Burroughs called the fourth book of the series
TRUVIA, MAID OF MARS. The title figure had been introduced in THE GODS
OF MARS as an equivocal character. She was the plaything of the degenerate
group of cultist priests, involuntarily so, in fact the term "white slave"
might be applied except that for Thuvia, it would have to be "red slave."

Rescued by John Carter from her unhappy life, Thuvia at the end of the
book is imprisoned with Dejah Thoris and a third Martian woman, the beautiful
but treacherous Phaidor, in a sort of horizontal ferris wheel which is
a Martian prison. Entrance to or exit from each cell is blocked for a year
at a time as the giant wheel rotates through a huge hollow rock. As the
cell containing the three women passes from sight, Phaidor lunges at Dejah
Thoris with a murderous knife-thrust, Thuvia throws herself between the
two, seeking to save Dejah Thoris, and ... The tag line is not "continued
in the next thrilling installment," but "continued in the next thrilling
book, THE WARLORD OF MARS."But Dejah Thoris and Thuvia escape, of. course,
and by the book following WARLORD, Thuvia had reached the status not only
of lead heroine, but of title character, an honor shared with Dejah Thoris
herself (the princess of PRINCESS) and with the granddaughter of John Carter
and Dejah Thoris, LLANA OF GATHOL (tenth volume of the series). The action
of THUVIA, MAID OF MARS, is no mere rehash of the adventures of John Carter,
but blazes new trails across the Barsoomian horizon. The novel is full
of invention and intrigue, the most brilliant probably being the Bowmen
of Lothar, a phantom army of archers created by the sheer mental power
of the Lotharians to counter the aggression of the Warhoons, their hereditary
enemies.THUVIA was first published in 1916, and following it, Burroughs
turned his attention to other matters, including several books in his Tarzan
and Pellucidar series, as well as several "singles." In 1922 he resumed
the Martian series, producing THE CHESSMEN OF MARS. Again, Burroughs changed
focus, this time making his hero Gahan of Gathol, a Martian noble, with
the heroine this time Tara of Helium, the younger sister of Carthoris.
Again, not mere action and adventure, but wondrous creations of imagination
mark the book. The outstanding creations of CHESSMEN may well be the rykors
and the kaldanes, inhabitants of the city of
Bantoom.

Strange symbiotes, these two races, the rykors resemble headless humans,
while the kaldanes are little more than animated heads, provided by evolution
with chelae with which they attach themselves to rykors and control the
bodies. A kaldane might change bodies any time he felt like it, even "being"
a man one day and a woman the next!

THE MASTER MIND OF MARS, next in the series, appeared in the AMAZING
STORIES ANNUAL for 1927, and introduces a marvelous new hero in the person
of Ulysses S. Paxton, a U.S. Army captain apparently killed in the trenches
in World War I, but whisked miraculously, instead, to Mars. Here he experiences
a strange adventure with Ras Thavas, a brilliant Martian surgeon who has
perfected the surgical transfer of the brain from one human to another.
Valla Dia, a lovely Martian girl, is victimized by Ras Thavas, being forced
into an exchange of bodies with the hideous Queen Xaxa. The action which
ensues leads ultimately to the regaining by Valla Dia of her rightful body,
and her marriage to Paxton (who has been dubbed with the Barsoomian appellation
of Vad Varo).

The seventh book of the series, A FIGHTING MAN OF MARS, is reported
to Earth via a sort of super radio called the Gridley Wave. The narration
is somewhat complicated. An introduction by Burroughs explains that the
story recorded in the book was told him (via Gridley Wave) by Ulysses Paxton/Vad
Varo. But Paxton had the story from its own central character, Tan Hadron
of Hastor (a city enjoying a certain degree of self-rule but within the
empire of Helium and subject to Helium's authority).

A FIGHTING MAN OF MARS perhaps epitomizes that form of science fiction
formerly known as the "scientific romance," a tale of high action and wonder
in which science is the basis of the situation, but plays little part in
the development of the story. Tan Hadron faces peril and horror, travels
to two marvelous hidden cities, faces a maddened monarch who specializes
in torturing beautiful maidens, is sentenced to a form of execution known
only as The Death, traverses a forest inhabited by giant spiders ... and
in general has a rollicking swash-buckling time to the reader's utter delight!

In SWORDS OF MARS, serialized in BLUE BOOK magazine in 1934 and '35,
Burroughs returned to John Carter as hero. The novel features an astonishing
prediction of the automatic control of experimental space craft by computers,
including the size, placement, functioning and even programming characteristics
of the electronic guidance devices being built today, to guide the rockets
that will carry first instruments and then Man to the planets. What a joy
if one of those manned rockets set out for Mars and found Barsoom instead!

In SWORDS OF MARS the space ship is used to carry Carter and a number
of others from the city of Zodanga on Mars to the Martian moon Thuria (Phobos).
Here Carter encounters still more strange people and strange beasts, before
returning to Barsoom.SYNTHETIC MEN OF MARS (1939) is the final actual novel
of the series, has a new hero again, Vor Daj, and calls Ras Thavas back
from retirement to make new mischief. The problem arises from Ras Thavas's
attempt, Frankenstein-like, to create artificial life. He succeeds, but
produces only monsters, who revolt and attempt to take over the entire
planet. Neither the most imaginative nor the best written of the Martian
series, SYNTHETIC MEN is nonetheless a compelling story, sufficiently suspenseful
and adequately packed with conflict and action to make it well worth reading.

The tenth book in the series, LLANA OF GATHOL, is not a novel but a
collection of four novelettes, loosely intertwined. All are excellent,
perhaps the best being a tale originally published as The City of Mummies,
and called in LLANA The Ancient Dead. In it, scores of ancient Martians
are discovered, preserved for millenia in a trance-like state, Awakened,
they find their world gone, their city dead. It is a touching and melancholy
scene, and marks a high point in a generally excellent book.Finally, of
course, the present volume, JOHN CARTER OF MARS, containing one unconnected
tale and another which was intended as the opener of a new cycle of adventures,
adventures fated never to be written.A final note now concerning John Carter
and the Giant of Mars. In the magazine version of two decades ago there
were a number of footnotes, signed "Ed." It is not known today whether
this "Ed." was Raymond A. Palmer, editor of AMAZING STORIES, or Edgar Rice
Burroughs, who sometimes described himself as merely the "editor" of John
Carter's true adventures, rather than as an author. These footnotes are
retained in the present edition, the reader is free to form his
own opinion regarding their authenticity.

To the reader who regards science fiction as a sugarcoated course in
chemistry and physics equally as to the one who seeks only serious sociological
extrapolation, Burroughs' Martian novels will prove unsatisfactory.But
to the reader who seeks magnificent adventure in an endlessly imaginative,
exotic setting, these books without question represent an all-time high
in the field.

RICHARD A. LUPOFF
New York City
Jasoom
June, 1964

JOHN
CARTER AND THE GIANT OF MARS

OneABDUCTIONTHE MOONS OF MARS looked down upon a giant Martian thoat as it raced
silently over the soft mossy ground. Eight powerful legs carried the creature
forward in great, leaping strides.

The path of the mighty beast was guided telepathically by the two people
who sat in a huge saddle that was cinched to the thoat's broad back. It
was the custom of Dejah Thoris, Princess of Helium, to ride forth weekly
to inspect part of her grandfather's vast farming and industrial kingdom.
Her journey to the farm lands wound through the lonely Helium Forest where
grow the huge trees that furnish much of the lumber supply to the civilized
nations of Mars.

Dawn was just breaking in the eastern Martian sky, and the jungle was
dark and still damp with the evening dew. The gloom of the forest made
Dejah Thoris thankful for the presence of her companion, who rode in the
saddle in front of her. Her hands rested on his broad, bronze shoulders,
and the feel of those smooth, supple muscles gave her a little thrill of
confidence. One of his hands rested on the jewel-encrusted hilt of his
great long sword; and he sat his saddle very straight, for he was the mightiest
warrior on Mars.

John Carter turned to gaze at the lovely face of his princess. "Frightened,
Dejah Thoris?" he asked.

"Never, when I am with my chieftain," Dejah Thoris smiled.

"But what of the forest monsters, the arboks?"

"Grandfather has had them all removed. On the last trip, my guard killed
the only tree reptile I've ever seen."

Suddenly Dejah Thoris gasped, clutched vainly at John Carter to regain
her balance. The mighty thoat lurched heavily to the mossy ground. The
riders catapulted over his head. In an instant the two had regained their
feet; but the thoat lay very still. Carter jerked his long sword from its
scabbard and motioned Dejah Thoris to stay at his back.

The silence of the forest was abruptly shattered by an uncanny roar
directly above them.

"An arbok!" Dejah Thoris cried.

The tree reptile launched itself straight for the hated man-things.
Carter lifted his sword and swung quickly to one side, drawing the monster's
attention away from Dejah Thoris who crouched behind the fallen thoat.
The earthman's first thrust sliced harmlessly through the beast's outer
skin. A huge claw knocked him off balance, and he found himself lying on
the ground with the great fangs at his throat.

"Dejah Thoris, get the atom gun from the thoat's back," Carter called
hoarsely to the girl. There was no answer. Calling upon every ounce of
his great strength, Carter drove his sword into the arbok's neck. The creature
shuddered. A stream of blood gushed from the wound. The man wriggled from
under the dead body and sprang to his feet.

"Dejah Thoris! Dejah Thoris!"

Wildly Carter searched the ground and trees surrounding the dead thoat
and arbok. There was no sign of Dejah Thoris. She had utterly vanished.

A shaft of light from the rising sun filtering through the foliage glistened
on an object at the earthman's feet. Carter picked up a large shell, a
shell
recently ejected from a silent atom gun. Springing to the dead thoat,
he examined the saddle trappings. The atom gun that he had told Dejah Thoris
to fire was still in its leather boot! The earthman stooped beside the
dead thoat's head. There was a tiny, bloody hole through its skull. That
shot and the charging arbok had been part of a well conceived plan to abduct
Dejah Thoris, and kill him! But Dejah Thoris -- how had she disappeared
so quickly, so completely? Grimly, Carter set off at a run back to the
forest toward Helium. Noon found the earthman in a private audience chamber
of Tardos Mors, Jeddak of Helium, grandfather of Dejah Thoris.

The old jeddak was worried. He thrust a rough piece of parchment into
John Carter's hand. Crude, bold letters were inscribed upon the parchment;
and as Carter scanned the note his eyes burned with anger: It read:

"I, Pew Mogel, the most powerful ruler on Mars, have decided to take
over the iron works of Helium. The iron will furnish me with all the ships
I need to protect Helium and the other cities of Barsoom from invasion.
If you have not evacuated all your workers from the iron mines and factories
in three days, then I will start sending you the fingers of the Royal Princess
of Helium. Hurry, because I may decide to send her tongue, which wags too
much of John Carter. Remember, obey Pew Mogel, for he is all-powerful."

Tardos Mors dug his nails into the palms of his hands. "Who is this
upstart who calls himself the most powerful ruler of Mars?"

Carter looked thoughtfully at the note.

"He must have spies here," he said. "Pew Mogel knew that I was to leave
this morning with Dejah Thoris on a tour of inspection."

"A spy it must have been," Tardos Mors groaned. I found this note pinned
to the curtains in my private audience-chamber. "But what can we do? Dejah
Thoris is the only thing in life that I have left to love--" His voice
broke. "All Helium loves her, Tardos Mors, and we will all die before we
return to you empty-handed."

Carter strode to the visiscreen and pushed a button.

"Summon Kantos Kan and Tars Tarkas." He spoke quickly to an orderly.
"Have them come here at once."

Soon after, the huge, green warrior and the lean, red man were in the
audience-chamber.

"It is fortunate, John Carter, that I am here in Helium on my weekly
visit from the plains." Tars Tarkas, the green thark, gripped his massive
sword with his powerful four hands. His great, giant body loomed majestically
above the others in the room.

Kantos Kan laid his hand on John Carter's shoulder. "I was on my way
to the palace when I received your summons. Already, word of our princess'
abduction has spread over Helium. I came immediately," said the noble fellow,
"to offer you my sword and my heart."

"I have never heard of this Pew Mogel," said Tars Tarkas. "is he a green
man?"

Tardos Mors grunted, "He's probably some petty outlaw or criminal who
as an overbloated ego."

Carter raised his eyes from the ransom note.

"No, Tardos Mors, I think he is more formidable than you imagine. He
is clever, also. There must have been an airship, with a silent motor,
at hand to carry Dejah Thoris away so quickly -- or perhaps some great
bird! Only a very powerful man who is prepared to back up his threats would
kidnap the Princess of Helium and even hope to take over the great iron
works.

"He probably has great resources at his command, It is doubtful, however,
if he has any intention of returning the princess or he would have included
more details in his ransom note."

Suddenly the earthman's keen eyes narrowed. A shadow had moved in the
adjoining room. With a powerful leap, Carter reached the arched doorway.
A furtive figure melted away into the semi-gloom of the passageway, with
Carter close behind. Seeing escape impossible, the stranger halted, sank
to one knee and leveled a ray-gun at the approaching figure of the earthman.
Carter saw his finger whiten as he squeezed the trigger.

"Carter!" Kantos Kan shouted, "throw yourself to the floor."

With the speed of light, Carter dropped prone. A long blade whizzed
over his head and buried itself to the hilt in the heart of the stranger.
"One of Pew Mogel's spies," John Carter muttered as he rose to his feet.
"Thank you, Kantos Kan."

Kantos Kan searched the body but found no clue to the man's identity.
Back in the audience-chamber, the men set to work with fierce resolve.
They were bending over a huge map of Barsoom when Carter spoke. "Cities
for miles around Helium are now all friendly. They would have warned us
of this Pew Mogel if they had known of him. He has probably taken over
one of the deserted cities in the dead sea bottom east or west of Helium.
It means thousands of miles to search; but we will go over each mile."

Carter seated himself at a table and explained his plan.

"Tars Tarkas, go east and contact the chiefs of all your tribes. I'll
cover the west with air scouts. Kantos Kan will stay in Helium as contact
man. Be ready night and day with the entire Helium air force. Whoever discovers
Dejah Thoris first will notify Kantos Kan of his position. Naturally, we
can only communicate to each other through Kantos Kan. The wave length
will be constant and secret, 2000 kilocycles."

Tardos Mors turned to the earthman.

"Every resource in my kingdom is at your command, John Carter."

"We leave at once, your majesty; and if Dejah Thoris is alive on Barsoom,
we shall find her," replied John Carter.

TwoTHE SEARCHWITHIN THREE HOURS, John Carter was standing on the roof of the Royal
Airdrome giving last-minute instructions to a fleet of twenty-four fast,
one-man scouts.

"Cover all the territory in your district thoroughly. If you discover
anything, don't attempt to handle it by yourself. Notify Kantos Kan immediately."
Carter surveyed the grim faces before him and knew that they would obey
him. "Let's go." Carter jerked a thumb over his shoulder to the ships.

The men scattered and soon their planes were speeding away from Helium.

Carter stayed on the roof long enough to check with Kantos Kan. He adjusted
the earphones around his head and then signalled on 2000 kilocycles. The
dots and dashes of Kantos Kan's reply began coming in immediately. "Your
signal comes in perfectly. Tars Tarkas is just leaving the city. The air
fleet is mobilizing. The entire air force will stand by to come to your
aid.Kantos Kan signing off."

Night found Carter cruising about five hundred miles from Helium. He
was very tired. The search of several ruined cities and canals had been
fruitless. The buzzing of the microset aroused him again.

"Kantos Kan reporting. Tars Tarkas has organized a complete ground search
east to south; other air scouts west to south report nothing. Will acquaint
you with any news that might come in. Await orders. Will stand by. Signing
off."

"No orders. No news. Carter signing off."

Wearily he let the ship drift. No need to look further until the moons
came up. The earthman fell into a fitful sleep. It was midnight when the
speaker sounded, jerking Carter to wakefulness. Kantos Kan was signalling
again, excitedly.

"Tars Tarkas has found Dejah Thoris. She is held in a deserted city
on the banks of the dead sea at Korvas." Kantos Kan gave the exact latitude
and longitude of the spot.

"Further instructions from Tars Tarkas request the greatest secrecy
in your movements. He will be at the main bridge leading into the City.
Kantos Kan signing off. Come in, John Carter." John Carter signed off with
Kantos Kan, urging him to stand by constantly to be ready with the Helium
Air Fleet. Now he set his gyro-compass, a device that would automatically
steer him to his destination.

Several hours later, the earthman flew over a low range of hills and
saw below him an ancient city on the banks of the Dead Sea. He circled
his plane and dropped to the bridge where he had been instructed to meet
Tars Tarkas. Long, black shadows filled a dry gulley below him. Carter
climbed out of his plane, keeping to the shadows, and made his way to the
towering ruins of the City. It was so quiet that a lonely bat swooping
from a tower sounded like a falling airship.

Where was Tars Tarkas? The green man should have appeared at the bridge.

At the entrance to the city, Carter stepped into the black shadow of
a wall and waited. No sound broke the stillness of the quiet night. The
city was like a tomb. Deimos and Phobos, the two fast-moving moons of Mars,
whirled across the heavens.

Carter stopped breathing to listen. To his keen ears came the faint
sound of steps -- strange, shuffing steps dragging closer. Something was
coming along the wall. The earthman tensed, ready to spring away to his
ship. Now he could hear other steps all around him. Inside the ruins something
dragged against the fallen rocks. Then a great, heavy body dropped on John
Carter from the wall above. Hot, fetid breath burned his neck. Huge, shaggy
arms smothered him in their fierce embrace.

The thing hurled him to the rough cobblestones. Huge hands clutched
at his throat. Carter turned his head and saw above him the face of a great,
white ape. Three of the creature's fellows were circling around Carter,
striving to tie his feet with a piece of rope while the other choked him
into insensibility with his four mighty hands.

Carter wriggled his feet under the belly of the ape with whom he was
grappling. One mighty heave sent the creature into the air to fall, groaning
and helpless, to the ground.

Like a cornered banth,* Carter was on his feet, crouched against the
wall, awaiting the attacking trio, with drawn sword.

* A banth is the huge, eight-legged lion of Mars. --
ED.

They were mighty beasts, fully eight feet tall with long, white hair covering
their great bodies. Each was equipped with four muscular arms that ended
in tremendous hands armed with sharp, hooked claws. They were baring their
fangs and growling viciously as they came toward the earthman. Carter crouched
low; and as the beasts sprang in, his earthly muscles sent him leaping
high into the air over their heads. The earthman's heavy blade, backed
by all the power of his muscles, smacked down upon one ape's head, splitting
the skull wide open.

Carter hit the ground and, turning, was ready when the two apes remaining
flew at him again. There was a hideous, hair-raising shriek as this time
the earthman's sword sank deep into a savage heart. As the monster sprawled
to the ground, the earthman jerked free his sword. Now the other beast
turned and slunk away in fright, his eyes gleaming at Carter in the darkness
as it fled down a long corridor in the adjacent building. The earthman
could have sworn that he heard his own name coming from the ape's throat
and mingling with its sullen growl as it fled away.

The earthman had just seized his sword when he felt a rush of air above
his head. There was a blur of motion as something came down toward him.
Now he felt himself clutched about the waist; then he was jerked fifty
feet into the air. Struggling for breath, Carter clutched at the thing
encircling his body. It was as horny as the skin of an arbok. It had hairs
as large as tree roots bristling from the horny scales. It was a giant
hand!

ThreeJOOG, THE GIANTJOHN CARTER found himself looking into a monstrous face.

From top of shaggy head to bottom of its hairy chin, the head measured
fully fifteen feet. A new monstrosity had come to life on Mars. Judging
by the adjacent buildings, the creature must have been a hundred and thirty
feet tall!

The giant raised Carter high over his head and shook him; then he threw
back his face. Hideous, hollow laughter rumbled out of his pendulous lips
revealing teeth like small mountain crags.

He was dressed in an illy-fitting, baggy tunic that came down in loose
folds over his hips but which allowed his arms and legs to be free. With
his other hand he beat his mighty chest.

"I, Joog. I, Joog," he kept repeating as he continued to laugh and shake
his helpless victim. "I can kill! I can kill!"

Joog, the giant, commenced to walk. Carefully he stepped along the barren
streets, sometimes going around a building that was too high to step over.
Finally he stopped before a partially ruined palace. The ravages of time
had only dimmed its beauty. Huge masses of moss and vines trailed through
the masonry, hiding the shattered battlements. With a sudden thrust, Joog,
the giant, shoved John Carter through a high window in the palace tower.
When Carter felt the giants hold releasing upon him he relaxed completely.
He hit the stone floor in a long roll, protecting his head with his arms.
As he lay in the deep darkness of the place where he had fallen,
the earthman listened while he regained his breath.

No sound came to his ears for some time; then he began to hear the heavy
breathing of Joog outside his window. Once more Carter's earthly muscles,
reacting to the lesser gravity of Mars, sent him leaping twenty feet to
the sill of the narrow window. Here he clung and looked once again into
the hairy, hideous face of the giant. "I, Joog. I, Joog," he mumbled. I
can kill! I can kill!" The giant's breath swept over Carter like a blast
from a sulphur furnace. There would be no escape from that window!

Once more he dropped down into his cell. This time he commenced a slow
circuit of the room, groping his way along the polished ersite slabs that
formed the wall. The cobblestone floor was thick with debris. Once, Carter
heard the sinister hiss of a Martian spider as he brushed its web. How
long he groped his way around the walls, there was no way of knowing. It
seemed hours. Then, suddenly, the deathly silence was shattered by a woman's
scream coming from somewhere in the building. John Carter could feel his
skin grow cold. Could that have been the voice of Dejah Thoris?

Once again John Carter leaped toward the faint light that marked the
window ledge. Cautiously, he looked down. Joog lay on his back on the flagstones
below, breathing as though he were asleep, his great chest rising five
feet with every breath.

Quietly he started to edge his way along a ledge that ran from the window
and disappeared into the shadow of an adjoining tower. If he could make
that shadow without awakening Joog! He had almost gained his objective
when Joog growled hoarsely. He had opened one great eye. Now he reached
up and, grabbing Carter by the leg, hurled him into the tower window again.

Wearily, the earthman crawled to the wall of his dark cell and there
slumped down against it. That scream haunted his memory. He was tormented
by the thought that Dejah Thoris might be in danger. And where was Tars
Tarkas? Pew Mogel must have captured him, too. Carter suddenly sprang to
his feet.

One of the ersite slabs at his back had moved! He waited. Nothing came
out. Cautiously, he approached the rock and shoved it with his foot. The
slab moved slightly inward. Now Carter shoved the stone with all his tremendous
strength. Inch by inch he moved it until finally there was enough room
for him to squeeze his body through.

He was still in utter darkness, but his groping fingers revealed to
him that he was in a corridor between two walls. Perhaps this was the way
out of his prison!

Carefully he shoved the stone back into position, leaving no trace of
his disappearance from the room. The corridor in which he found himself
was so low that he was forced to crawl on hands and knees. The low corridor
had the stench of age, as if it had been unused for a long time. Gradually
the tunnel sloped more and more downward. Many little side-passages branched
off from the main tunnel. There was no light, no noise. Only a faint, pungent
odor beginning to fill the air. Now it was growing lighter. The earthman
realized that he must be in the subterranean caverns of the palace. The
dim light was caused by the phosphorescent radium glow that is used on
all Mars for radiation.

The source of this faint light the earthman suddenly discovered. It
was shining through a cleft in the wall ahead. Pushing aside another loose
stone, John Carter crawled forth into a chamber. He drew in his breath
sharply. Facing him was a warrior with drawn sword, the point of which
was almost touching the breast of the earthman! John Carter leaped back
with the speed of lightning, whipped out his own sword and struck at the
other's weapon. The arm of the red man fell from his body to the floor
where it dissolved into dust. The ancient sword clattered on the cobblestones.
Carter could see now that the warrior had been leaning against the wall,
balanced there precariously for ages, his sword arm extending in front
of him just a it had stiffened long ago in death. The loss of the arm overbalanced
the torso which toppled to the floor and there dissolved into a heap of
ash-like dust!

In an adjoining chamber there were a score of women, beautiful girls,
chained together by collars of gold around their necks. They sat at a table
where they had been eating, and the food was still before them. They had
been the prisoners, the slaves of the rulers of the long-dead city. The
dry, motionless air combined with some gaseous secretion from the walls
and dungeons had preserved their beauty through the ages.

The earthman had traversed some little distance down a musty corridor
when he became aware of something scraping behind him. Whirling into a
side corridor he looked back. Gleaming eyes were coming toward him. They
followed him as he backed into the tunnel. Now again came the scraping,
repeated this time farther ahead in the tunnel. Other eyes shone ahead
of him. John Carter ran forward, his sword-point extended. The eyes ahead
retreated, but those in back of him started to close in. It was very dark
now, but far ahead the earthman could see a faint gleam of light filtering
into the tunnel.

He ran toward the light. Fighting the things where he could see them
would be a lot easier than stumbling around in a dark corridor.

Carter entered the room and in the dim light came face to face with
the creature whose eyes he had seen ahead of him in the tunnel. It was
a species of the huge three-legged Martian rat!

Its yellow fangs were bared hideously in a vicious snarl, as it backed
slowly away from Carter to the far end of the small room. Now behind him
came the other rat, and together the two beasts started to close in upon
the earthman. Carter smiled grimly as he gripped his sword. "I am the proverbial
cornered rat now," he muttered as he swung his blade at the nearest creature.
It ducked the blow and scurried toward him. But the earthman's sword was
ready. The charging rat lunged full upon the waiting sword-point. The momentum
of the beast carried Carter back five feet; but he still retained a hold
on his sword, the point of which had plunged through the animal's single
shoulder and pierced its wild heart.

When Carter had jerked free his sword and turned to meet his other antagonist
an exclamation of dismay escaped his lips. The room was half filled with
rats! The creatures had entered through another opening and had formed
a circle around him, waiting to attack. For half an hour, Carter battled
furiously for his life in the lonely dungeon beneath the palace in the
ancient city of Korvas. The carcasses of the dead rats were piled high
around him, but still they came and eventually they overpowered him by
their very numbers. John Carter went down by a terrific blow to his head
from a snake-like tail.
He was half stunned, but he still clung tenaciously to his sword as
he felt himself seized by the arms and dragged away into the darkness of
an adjoining tunnel.

FourTHE CITY OF RATSJOHN CARTER RECOVERED FULLY when he was dragged through a pool of muddy
water. He heard the rats greedily drinking, saw their green eyes gleaming
in the darkness. The smell of freshly dug earth reached his nostrils and
he realized that he was in a burrow far under the subterranean vaults of
the palace. Several rats on either side of him had hold of his arms by
their forepaws as they dragged him along. It was very uncomfortable, and
he wondered how much longer the journey would last. Nor had he long to
wait. The strange company finally came out into a huge underground cavern.
Light from the outside filtered down through various openings in the ceiling
above, its rays reflecting on thousands of gleaming stalactites of red
sand stone. Massive stalagmites, huge sedimentary formations of grotesque
shape, rose up from the floor of the cavern. Among these formations on
the floor were numerous domeshaped mud huts.

As Carter was dragged by, he stared at a hut that several rats were
constructing, The framework was composed of white sticks of various shapes
plastered with mud from an underground stream bed. The white sticks were
very irregular in length and size. One of the rats stopped work to gnaw
at a stick. It looked like a bone.

As he was dragged closer, he saw that the stick was a human thigh bone!

The mud huts were studded with bones and skulls, upon some of which
were still dangling hideously the vestiges of hair and skin. Carter noticed
that the tops of all the skulls had been removed, neatly sliced off. The
earthman was dragged to a clearing in the center of the cavern. Here, upon
a mound of skulls, sat a rat half again as large as the others. The baleful,
pink eyes of the creature glared at Carter as he was dragged up on top
of the mound. The beasts released their hold upon the earthman and descended
to the bottom of the mound, leaving Carter alone with the large rat. The
long whiskers of the monster were constantly twitching as the thing sniffed
at the man. It had lost one ear in some battle long ago and the other was
bright with scar-tissue.

Its little pink eyes surveyed Carter for a long time while it fondly
caressed its long, hairless tail with its one claw-like paw. This, evidently,
was the King of the Rats. "Lord of the Underworld," Carter thought, trying
to hold his breath. The stench in the cavern was overwhelming. Without
taking his eyes from Carter's, the rat reached down and picked up a skull
beside him and put it in front of Carter. This he repeated, picking up
a skull from the other side and placing it beside the first. By repeating
this, he eventually formed a little ring of topless heads in front of the
earthman. Now, very judiciously, he climbed inside the circle of skulls
and picking one of them up tossed it to Carter. The earthman caught it
and tossed it back at the
king.

This seemed to annoy his royal highness. He made no effort to catch
the skull and it flew past him and went bouncing down the mound. Instead,
the king leaped up and down inside the little circle of skulls, at the
same time emitting angry squeals. This was all very puzzling to the earthman.
As he stood there, he became aware of two circles of rats forming at the
base of the mound, each circle consisting of about a thousand animals.
They began a weird dance, moving around the raised dais of bones counter-clockwise.
The tail of each rat was gripped in the mouth of the following beast, thus
forming a continuous chain.

There was no doubt that the earthman was in the center of a weird ritual.
While he was ignorant of the exact nature of the ceremony, he had little
doubt as to its final outcome. The countless barren skulls, the yellowed
bones that filled the cavern were mute, horrible evidence of his final
fate. Where did the rats get all the bodies from which the skulls were
obtained and why were the tops of those skulls missing? The City of Korvas,
as every Martian schoolboy knew, had been deserted for a thousand years;
yet many of the skulls and bones were recently picked clean of their flesh.
Carter had seen no evidence in the city of any life other than the great
white apes and the mysterious giant, and the rats themselves. However,
there had been the woman's scream that he had heard earlier. This thought
accentuated his ever-present anxiety over Dejah Thoris's safety and whereabouts.
This delay was tormenting. As the circles of rats closed in about him,
the earthman's eyes eagerly searched for some avenue of escape.

The rats circled slowly, watching their king who rose to his hind legs
stamping his feet, thumping his tail. The mound of skulls echoed hollowly.
Faster danced the king and faster moved the circles of rats drawing ever
closer to the mound. The closer rats shot hungry glances at the earthman.
Carter smiled grimly and gripped his sword more tightly. Strange that they
should let him retain it. More than one of the beasts would die before
he was overcome, and the king would be the first to go. There was no doubt
that he was to be sacrificed to furnish a gastronomic orgy.

Suddenly the king stopped his wild gyrations directly in front of Carter.
The dancers halted instantly, watching, waiting. A strange, growling squeal
started deep in the king's throat and grew in volume to an ear-piercing
shriek. The King of Rats stepped over the ring of skulls and advanced slowly
toward Carter. Once again the earthman glanced about seeking some means
of escape from the mound. This time he looked up. The ceiling was at least
fifty feet away. No native-born Martian would even consider escaping in
that direction. But John Carter had been born on the planet Earth, and
he had brought with him to Mars all the strength and agility of a trained
athlete. It was upon this, combined with the lesser gravity of Mars, that
the earthman made his quick plan for the next moment.Tensely he waited
for his opportunity. The ceremony was nearly concluded. The king was baring
his fangs not a foot from Carter's neck.

The earthman's hand tightened on his sword-hilt; then the blade streaked
from its scabbard. There was a blur of motion and a sickening smack. The
king's head flew into the air and then rolled away, bouncing down the mound.
The other beasts beneath were stunned into silence, but only momentarily.
Now, squealing wildly, they swarmed up the mount intent on tearing the
earthman to pieces.

John Carter crouched and with a mighty leap his earthly muscles sent
him shooting fifty feet up into the air.

Desperately he clutched and held to a hanging stalagtite. Soon he was
swinging on the hanging moss to the vast upper reaches of the cavern. Once
he looked down to see the rats milling and squealing in confusion beneath
One other fact he noted, also. Apparently there was only one means of entrance
or exit into the dungeon that formed the rats' underground city, the same
tunnel through which he had first been dragged.

Now, however, the earthman was intent upon finding some means of exit
in the ceiling above. At last he found a narrow opening; and plunging through
a heavy curtain of moss Carter swung into a cave.

There were several tunnels branching off into the darkness, most of
them thickly hung with the sticky webs of the great Martian spider. They
were evidently parts of a vast underground network of tunnels that had
been fashioned long ages ago by the ancients who once inhabited Korvas.
Carter was ready with his blade for any encounter with man or beast that
might come his way; and so he started off up the largest tunnel.

The perpetually burning radium light that had been set in the wall when
the tunnel was constructed furnished sufficient illumination for the earthman
to see his way quite clearly. Carter halted before a massive door set into
the end of a tunnel. It was inscribed with hieroglyphics unfamiliar to
the earthman. The subdued drone of what sounded like many motors seemed
to come from somewhere beyond the door. He pushed open the unbarred door
and halted just beyond, staring unbelievingly at the tremendous laboratory
in which he found himself. Great motors pumped oxygen through low pipes
into rows of glass cages that lined the walls and filled the antiseptically
white chamber from end to end. In the center of the laboratory were several
operating tables with large searchlights focused down upon them from above.
But the contents of the glass cages immediately absorbed the earthman's
attention.

Each cage contained a giant white ape, standing upright inside, apparently
lifeless. The top of each hairy head was swathed in bandages. If these
beasts were dead, why then the oxygen tubes running to their cages? Carter
moved across the room to examine the cases at closer range. Halfway to
the farther wall he came upon a low, glassed dome that covered a huge pit
set in the floor.

He gasped. The pit was filled with dead bodies, red warriors with the
tops of their heads neatly sliced off!

FiveCHAMBER OF HORRORSFAR BELOW, IN THE PIT, John Carter could see forms moving in and about
the bodies of the dead red men. They were rats; and as he watched, the
earthman could see them dragging bodies off into adjoining tunnels. These
tunnels probably entered the main one which ran into the rats' underground
city.

So this was where the beasts got the skulls and bones with which they
constructed their odorous, underground dwellings!

Carter's eyes scanned the laboratory. He noted the operating tables,
the encased instruments above, the anesthetics. Everything pointed to some
grisly experiment, conducted by some insane scientist.

Within a glass case were many books. One ponderous volume was inscribed
in gold letters: PEW MOGEL, HIS LIFE AND WONDERFUL WORKS.

The earthman frowned. What was the explanation? Why this well-equipped
laboratory buried in an ancient lost city, a city apparently deserted except
for
apes, rats, and a giant man?

Why the cases about the wall containing the mute, motionless bodies
of apes with bandaged heads? And the red men in the pit -- why were their
skulls cut in half, their brains removed?

From whence came the giant, the monstrous creature whose likeness had
existed only in Barsoomian folklore?

One of the books in a case before Carter bore the name "Pew Mogel."
What connection had Pew Mogel with all this and who was the man?

But more important, where was Dejah Thoris, the Princess of Helium?

John Carter reached for Pew Mogel's book. Suddenly the room fell silent.
The generators that had been humming out their power, stopped.

"Touch not that book, John Carter," came the words echoing through the
laboratory.

Carter's hand dropped to his sword. There was a moment's pause; then
the hidden voice continued.

"Give yourself up, John Carter, or your princess dies." The words were
apparently coming from a concealed loudspeaker somewhere in the room. "Through
the door to your right, earthman, the door to your right."

Carter immediately sensed a trap. He crossed to the door. Warily, he
pushed it open with his foot.

Upon a gorgeous throne at the far end of a huge dome-shaped chamber
sat a hideous, misshapen man. A tiny, bullet head squatted upon massive
shoulders.

Everything about the creature seemed distorted. His torso was crooked,
his arms were not equal in length; one foot was larger than the other.

The face in the diminutive head leered at John Carter. A thick tongue
hung partly out over yellowed teeth.

The hulking body was encased in gorgeous trappings of platinum and diamonds.
One claw-like hand stroked the bare head. From head to foot there was apparently
not a hair on his body!

At the man's feet crouched a great, four-armed shaggy brute -- another
white ape. Its little red eyes were fixed steadily upon the earthman as
he stood at the far end of the chamber.

The man on the throne idly fingered the microphone with which he had
summoned Carter to the room. "I have trapped you at last, John Carter!"
Beady, cocked eyes glared with hatred.

"You cannot cope with the great brain of Pew Mogel!" Pew Mogel turned
to a television screen studded with dials and lights of various colors.
His face twisted into a smile. "You honor my humble city, John Carter.
It is with the greatest interest I have watched your progress through the
many chambers of the palace with my television machine." Pew Mogel patted
the machine.

"This little invention of my good teacher, Ras Thavas," continued Pew
Mogel, "which I acquired from him, has been an invaluable aid to me in
learning of your intended search for my unworthy person. It was unfortunate
that you should suspect the honorable intentions of my agent that afternoon
in the Jeddak's
chambers.

"Fortunately, however, he had already completed his mission; and through
an extension upon this television set, concealed cleverly behind a mirror
in the
Jeddak's private throne room, I was able to see and hear the entire
proceedings."

Pew Mogel laughed vacantly, his little unblinking eyes staring steadily
at Carter who remained motionless at the other end of the room.

The earthman could see nothing in the chamber that indicated a trap.
The walls and floor were all of grey, polished ersite slabs. Carter stood
at one end of a
long aisle leading to Pew Mogel's throne.

Slowly he advanced toward Pew Mogel, his hand grasping his sword, the
muscles of his arm etched bands of steel.

Halfway down the aisle, the earthman halted. "Where is Dejah Thoris?"
His words cut the air.

The microcephalic* head of Pew Mogel cocked to one side. Carter waited
for him to speak.

* A microcephalic head is one possessing a very small brain
capacity. It is the opposite of megacephalic, which means a large brain
capacity. Generally microcephalia is a sign of idiocy, although in the
case of Pew Mogel, the condition did not mean idiocy, but extreme craftiness,
and madness, which might indicate that, since Pew Mogel was an artificial,
synthetic product of Ras Thavas, one of Mars' most famous scientists, his
microcephalia was either caused by a disease, or by inability of the brain
to adapt itself to a foreign, ill-fitting cranial cavity. Pew Mogel's head
was obviously too small for his body, or for his brain. --ED.

In spite of having the features of a man, Pew Mogel did not look quite
human. There was something indescribably repulsive about him, the thin
lips, the hollow cheeks, the close-set eyes.

Then Carter realized that those eyes were unblinking. There were no
eyelids. The man's eyes could never close. Pew Mogel spoke coldly.

"I am greatly indebted to you for this visit. I was fortunate enough
to be able to entertain your princess and your best friend; but I hardly
dared to hope you
would honor me, too."

The earthman advanced toward the throne. The white ape at Pew Mogel's
feet growled, the hairs on its neck bristling upright as Pew Mogel flinched
slightly.
Again the twisted smile passed over his face as he raised his hand
toward John Carter and drawled.

"Have patience, John Carter, and I will show you your princess; but
first, perhaps you will be interested in seeing the man who, last night,
told you to
meet him at the main bridge outside the city."

Pew Mogel hooked one of his fingers over a lever projecting from the
golden arm of his throne and slipped it toward himself. A pillar to the
left of his throne, half set in the wall, began to revolve slowly.

A giant green man appeared, chained to the pillar. His four mighty arms
were strapped securely; and for Pew Mogel's additional safety, several
steel chains
were wrapped around his body and cinched with massive padlocks. His
neck and ankles were also secured with bands of steel, also padlocked.

"Tars Tarkas!" Carter exclaimed.

"Kaor, John Carter," there was a grim smile on Tars Tarkas' face as
he replied.

"I see our friend here trapped us both the same way; but it took a giant
fifteen times my size to hold me while they trussed me in these chains."

"The message you sent me last night--" In a flash, Carter realized the
truth. Pew Mogel had faked the messages from Kantos Kan and Tars Tarkas,
trapping them both in the city the night before.

"Yes, I sent you both identical messages," said Pew Mogel, "each message
apparently from the other. The proper broadcasting length I ascertained
from
listening to the concealed microphone I had planted in the Jeddak's
throne room. Clever, eh?"

Pew Mogel's left eye suddenly popped out of its socket and dangled on
his cheek. He took no notice of it, but continued to speak, glancing first
at Carter and
then at Tars Tarkas with the other eye.

"You have both met Joog," stated Pew Mogel. "One hundred and thirty
feet tall, he is all muscle, a product of science, the result of my great
brain. With my own hands I created him from living flesh, the greatest
fighting monster that Barsoom has ever seen. I modeled him from the
organs, tissues, and bones of ten thousand red men and white apes."

Pew Mogel, becoming aware of his left eye, quickly shoved it back into
place.

Tars Tarkas laughed one of his rare laughs.

"Pew Mogel," he said, "you are falling apart. As you claim to have created
your giant, so you yourself have been made.

"Unless I miss my guess, John Carter," continued Tars Tarkas, "this
freak before us who calls himself a king has, himself, crawled out of a
tissue vat!"

Pew Mogel's pallid countenance turned even paler as he leaped to his
feet. He struck Tars Tarkas a vicious blow on the face.

"Silence, green man!" he shrieked.

Tars Tarkas only smiled at this insult, ignoring the pain. John Carter's
face was a frozen mask. One more blow at his defenseless friend would have
sent him
at Pew Mogel's throat. Better to bide his time, he knew, until he learned
where Dejah Thoris was hidden.

Pew Mogel sank back upon his throne. The white ape, who had risen, once
more squatted down at his master's feet.

Presently Pew Mogel smiled again.

"So sorry, he drawled, "that I lost my temper. Some times I forget that
my present appearance reveals the nature of my origin.

"You see, soon I shall have trained one of my apes in the intricate
procedure of transferring my marvelous brain into a suitable, handsome
body; then no one will guess that I am not like any other normal man on
Barsoom.

John Carter smiled grimly at Pew Mogel's words.

"Then you are one of Ras Thavas' synthetic men?"

SixPEW MOGEL"YES, I AM A SYNTHETIC MAN, answered Pew Mogel slowly. "My brain was
the greatest achievement of all the Master Mind's creations.

"For years I was a devoted pupil of Ras Thavas in his laboratories at
Morbus. I learned all that the Master could teach me of the secrets of
creating living
tissue. When I learned from him all that I thought necessary to pursue
my plans, I left Morbus. With a hundred synthetic men I escaped over the
Great Toonolian Marshes on the backs of malagors, the birds of transport.

"I brought with me all the intricate equipment that I could steal from
his laboratories. The rest, I have fashioned here in this ancient deserted
city where we finally landed."

John Carter was studying Pew Mogel intently.

I was tired of being a slave," continued Pew Mogel. I wanted to rule;
and by Issus, I have ruled; and some day I shall rule all Barsoom!"

Pew Mogel's eyes gleamed. "It was not long before red men gathered in
our city, escaped and exiled criminals. Since their faces would only lead
them to capture and execution in other civilized cities on Barsoom, I persuaded
them to allow me to transfer their brains into the bodies of the stupid
white apes that overran this city.

"I promised to later restore their brains into the bodies of other red
men, provided they would help me in my conquests."

Carter recalled the apes with the bandaged heads in the adjoining laboratory,
and the red men with their skulls sliced off in the chamber of the rats.
He began to understand a little; then he remembered Joog.

"But the giant?" asked John Carter. "Whence came he?"

Pew Mogel was silent for a minute; then he spoke. "Joog I have built,
piece by piece, during several years, from the bones, tissues and organs
of a thousand red men and white apes who came voluntarily to me or whom
I captured.

"Even his brain is the synthesis of the brains of ten thousand red men
and white apes. Into Joog's veins I have pumped a serum that makes all
tissues self-repairing.

"My giant is practically indestructible. No bullet or cannon-shot made
can stop him!"

Pew Mogel smiled and stroked his hairless chin. "Think how powerful
my ape soldiers will be," he purred, "each one armed with the great strength
of an ape. With their four arms they can hold twice as many weapons as
ordinary men, and inside their skulls will function the cunning brains
of human beings.

"With Joog and my army of white apes, I can go forth and become master
of all Barsoom." Pew Mogel paused and then added, "--provided I acquire
more iron for even greater weapons than I already have."

Now Pew Mogel had risen from his throne in his great excitement. "I
preferred to conquer peacefully by first acquiring the Helium iron works
as payment for Dejah Thoris's safe return. But the Jeddak and John Carter
force me into other alternatives--

"However, I'll give you one more chance to settle peacefully," he said.

Pew Mogel's hand moved toward the right arm of his throne, as he pulled
a duplicate lever. A beautiful woman swung into view.

It was Dejah Thoris!

At the sight of his princess chained to the other pillar before him,
John Carter grew very pale. He sprang forward to free her. His earthly
muscles could have easily covered the distance in one leap; but halfway
there in his spring, Dejah Thoris and Tars Tarkas saw the earthman sprawl
in mid-air as though he had struck full force against some invisible barrier.
Half-stunned, he crumpled to the floor.

Dejah Thoris gave a little cry. Tars Tarkas strained at his bonds. Slowly,
the earthman rose to his feet, shaking his body like some majestic animal.
With his
sword he reached down and felt the barrier that stood between him and
the throne.

Pew Mogel laughed harshly.

"You are trapped, John Carter. The invisible glass partition that you
struck is another invention of the great Ras Thavas that I acquired. It
is invulnerable.
"From there, you may watch the torture of your princess, unless she
sees fit to sign a note to her father demanding the surrender of Helium
to me."

The earthman looked at his princess not ten feet from him. Dejah Thoris
held her head proudly high, which was answer enough to Pew Mogel's demands
that she betray her people. Pew Mogel saw, and angrily issued a command
to the ape. The white brute rose and ambled over to Dejah Thoris. Grabbing
her hair with one paw, he forced her head back until he could see her face.
His hideous, grinning face was not two inches from hers.

The creature planted his great, pendulous lips on those of the princess.
Dejah Thoris went limp in his embrace, while Tars Tarkas surged vainly
at the steel
chains. The girl had fainted. The earthman again hurled himself futilely
against the barrier that he could not see.

"Fool," yelled Pew Mogel, "I gave you your chance to retain your princess
by turning over to me the Helium iron works; but you and the Jeddak thought
you
could thwart me and regain Dejah Thoris without paying me the price
I asked for her safe return. For that mistake, you all die."

Pew Mogel again reached over to the instrument board beside his throne.
He began to turn several dials, and Carter heard a strange, droning noise
that increased steadily in volume.

Suddenly the earthman turned and raced for the door through which he
came. But before he had covered fifteen feet, another barrier had closed
down. Escape
through the door was impossible. There was a window over on the wall
to his right. He leaped for it. He struck another glass barrier.

There was another window on the left side of the room. He had nearly
reached it when he was met by another wall of invisible glass.

In a flash he became acutely conscious of his predicament. The walls
were moving in upon him. He could see now that the glass barriers had moved
out from
cleverly concealed slits in the adjoining walls. The two side barriers,
however, were fastened to horizontal pistons in the ceiling. These pistons
were moving together, bringing the glass walls toward each other, and would
eventually crush the earthman between them.

Upon John Carter's finger was a jeweled ring. Set in the center of the
ring was a large diamond.

Diamonds can cut glass!

Here was a new type of glass, but the chances were it was not as hard
as the diamond on Carter's finger!

The earthman clenched his fist, pressed the diamond ring against the
barrier in front of him and quickly made a large circular scratch in the
glass surface.
Then he crashed his body with all his strength against the area of
glass enclosed by the scratch.

The section broke out neatly at the blow, and the earthman found himself
face to face with Pew Mogel.

Dejah Thoris had regained consciousness, a set, intent expression on
her beautiful face. A grim smile had settled over Tars Tarkas's lips when
he saw
that his friend was no longer impeded by the invisible barriers.

Gore, the white ape, released his hold on Dejah Thoris and, turning,
saw the earthman advancing toward them. Gore snarled viciously, revealing
jagged, mighty fangs. He crouched low, so that his four massive fists supported
his weight on the floor. His little, beady, blood-shot eyes gleamed hatred,
for Gore hated all men save Pew Mogel.

SevenTHE FLYING TERRORAS GORE, THE GREAT WHITE APE with a man's brain crouched to meet John
Carter, he was fully confident of overcoming his puny man opponent. But
to make assurance doubly sure, Gore drew the great blade at his side and
rushed madly at his foe, hacking and cutting viciously.

The momentum of the brute's attack forced Carter backward a few steps
as he deftly warded off the mighty blows.

But the earthman saw his chance. Quickly, surely, his blade streaked.
There was a sudden twist and Gore's sword went hurtling across the room.

Gore, however, reacted with lightning speed. With his four huge hands
he grasped the naked steel of the earthman's sword.

Violently he jerked the blade from Carter's grasp and, raising it overhead,
snapped the strong steel in two as if it had been a splinter of wood.

Now, with a low growl, Gore closed in; and Carter crouched. Suddenly
the man leaped over the ape's head; but again with uncanny speed the monster
shot out a hairy hand and grasped the earthman's ankle.

Gore held John Carter in his four hands, drawing the man closer and
closer and closer to the drooling jowls and gleaming fangs.

But with a surge of his mighty muscles, the earthman jerked free his
arm and sent a terrific blow crashing full into Gore's face.

The ape recoiled, dropping John Carter, and staggered back toward the
huge window on the right wall by Pew Mogel's throne.

Here the beast tottered; and the earthman, seeing his chance, once again
leaped into the air, but this time flew feet foremost toward the ape.

At the moment of contact with the ape's chest, Carter extended his legs
violently; and so, as his feet struck Gore, this force was added to the
hurtling
momentum of his body.

With a bellowing cry, Gore hurtled out through the window and his screams
ended only when he landed with a sickening crunch in the courtyard far
below.

Dejah Thoris and Tars Tarkas, chained to the pillars, had watched the
short fight, fascinated by the earthman's sure, quick actions.

But when Carter did not succumb instantly to Gore's attack, Pew Mogel
had grown frightened. He began jerking dials and switches; and then spoke
swiftly into the little microphone beside him.

So now, as the earthman regained his feet and advanced slowly toward
Pew Mogel, he did not see the black shadow that obscured the window behind
him.
Only when Dejah Thoris screamed a warning did the earthman turn.

But he was too late!

A giant hand, fully three feet across, closed about his body. He was
lifted from the floor and pulled out quickly through the window.

To Carter's ears came the hopeless cry of his princess mingled with
the cruel, hollow laugh of Pew Mogel.

Carter did not need the added assurance of his eyes to know that he
was being held in the grasp of Pew Mogel's synthetic giant. Joog's fetid
breath blasting
across his face was ample evidence.

Joog held Carter several feet from his face and contracted his features
in the semblance of a grin, exposing his two great rows of cracked, stained
teeth the
size of sharp boulders.

Hoarse, gurgling sounds emanated from Joog's throat as he held the earthman
before his face.

But quite suddenly the giant was quiet, listening; then Carter became
aware of muffled words coming, apparently, from Joog's ear.

Then John Carter realized that the command was coming from Pew Mogel,
transmitted by short wave to a receiving device attached to one of Joog's
ears.
"To the arena," repeated the voice. "Fasten him over the pit!"

The pit -- what new form of devilish torture was this? Carter tried
vaguely to ease the awful pressure that was crushing him.

But his arms were pinned to his sides by the giant's grasp, All the
man could do was breathe laboriously and hope that Joog's great strides
would soon bring them to his destination, whatever that might be.

The giant's tremendous pace, stepping over tall, ancient edifices or
across wide, spacious plazas in single, mighty strides, soon brought them
to a large,
crowded amphitheatre on the outskirts of the city.

The amphitheatre apparently was fashioned from a natural crater. Row
upon row of circular tiers had been carved within the inner wall of the
crater, forming a series of levels upon which sat thousands of white apes.

In the center of the arena was a circular pit about fifty feet across.
The pit contained what appeared to be water whose level was about fifteen
feet from the
top of the pit.

Three iron-barred cages hung suspended over the center of the pit by
means of three heavy ropes, one attached to the top of each cage and running
up through a pulley in the scaffolding built overhead and down to the edge
of the pit where it was anchored.

Joog climbed partly over the edge of the coliseum and deposited Carter
on the brink of the pit. Five great apes held him there while another ape
lowered one
of the cages to ground level.

Then he reached out with a hooked pole and swung the cage over the edge.
He unlocked the cage door with a large key.

The keeper of the key was a short, heavy-set ape with a bull neck and
exceedingly cruel, close-set eyes.

This brute now came up to Carter; and although the captive was being
held by five other apes, he grabbed him cruelly by the hair and jerked
Carter into the
cage, at the same time kicking him viciously.

The cage door was slammed immediately, its padlock bolted closed. Now
Carter's cage was pulled up over the pit and the rope end anchored to a
davit at the edge.

It was not long before Joog returned with Dejah Thoris and Tars Tarkas.
Their chains had been removed.

They were placed in the other two cages that hung over the pit next
to that of John Carter.

"Oh, John Carter, my chieftain!" cried Dejah Thoris, when she saw him
in the cage next to hers. "Thank Issus you are still alive!" The little
princess was
crying softly.

John Carter reached through the bars and took her hand in his. He tried
to speak reassuring words to her; but he knew, as did Tars Tarkas, who
sat grim-faced in the other cage beside his, that Pew Mogel had ordained
their deaths -- but in what manner they would die, Carter, as yet, was
uncertain.

"John Carter," spoke Tars Tarkas softly, "do you notice that all these
thousands of apes gathered here in the arena apparently are paying no attention
to us?"

"Yes, I noticed," replied the earthman. "They are all looking into the
sky toward the city."

"Look," whispered Dejah Thoris. "It's the same thing upon which the
ape rode when he captured me in the Helium Forest after shooting our thoat!"

There appeared in the sky, coming from the direction of the city, a
great, lone bird upon whose back rode a single man.

The earthman's keen eyes squinted for an instant. "The bird is a malagor.
Pew Mogel is riding it."

The bird and its rider circled directly overhead.

"Open the east gate," Pew Mogel commanded, his voice ringing out through
a loudspeaker somewhere in the arena. The gates were thrown open and there
began pouring out into the arena wave after wave of malagors exactly like
the bird Pew Mogel rode.

As the malagors came out, column after column of apes were waiting at
the entrance to vault onto the birds' backs. As each bird was mounted,
it rose into
the air by telepathic command to join a constantly growing formation
circling high overhead.

The mounting of the birds must have taken nearly two hours, so great
were the number of Pew Mogel's apes and birds. Carter noticed that upon
each ape's back was strapped a rifle and each bird itself carried a varying
assortment of military equipment, including ammunition supplies, small
cannon; and a sub-machine gun was carried by each flight platoon.

At last all was ready and Pew Mogel descended down over the cages of
his three captives.

"You see, now, Pew Mogel's mighty army," he cried, "with which he will
first conquer Helium and then all Barsoom." The man seemed very confident,
for his crooked, misshapen body sat very straight upon his feathered mount.

"Before you are chewed to bits by the reptiles in the rising water below
you,"

he said, "you will have a few moments to consider the fate that awaits
Helium within the next forty-eight hours. I should have preferred to conquer
peacefully; but you interfered. For that, you die, slowly and horribly."

Pew Mogel turned to the only ape that was left in the arena, the keeper
of the key to the cages.

"Open the flood-gate!" was his single command before he rose up to lead
his troops off toward the north.

Accompanying the weird, flying army in a sling carried by a hundred
malagors rode Joog, the synthetic giant. A hollow, mirthless laugh peeled
like thunder
from the giant's throat as he was borne away into the sky.

EightTHE REPTILE PITAS THE LAST BIRD in Pew Mogel's fantastic army flapped out of sight
behind the rim of the crater, John Carter turned to Tars Tarkas in the
cage hanging beside him. He spoke softly, so that Dejah Thoris would not
hear.

"Those creatures will make Helium a formidable enemy," he said. "Kantos
Kan's splended airfleet and infantry will be hard pressed against those
thousands of apes equipped with human brains and modern armament, mounted
upon fast birds of prey!"

"Kantos Kan and his airfleet are not even in Helium to protect the city,"
announced Tars Tarkas grimly. "I heard Pew Mogel bragging that he had sent
Kantos Kan a false message, supposedly from you, urging that all Helium's
fleet, as well as all ships of the searching party, be dispatched to your
aid in the Great Toonolian Marshes."

"The Toonolian Marshes!" Carter gasped. "They're a thousand miles from
Helium in the other direction."

A little scream from Dejah Thoris brought the men's attention to their
own, immediate fate.

The ape beside the pit had pulled back a tall, metal lever. There was
a gurgle of bubbles as air blasted up from the water in the pit below the
three captives;
and the water at the same time commenced to rise slowly.

The guard now unfastened the rope on each cage and lowered them so that
the cage tops were a little below the surface of the ground inside the
pit; then he
refastened the ropes and stood for some time on the brink looking down
at the helpless captives.

"The water rises slowly," he sneered thickly; "and so I shall have time
now for a little sleep."

It was uncanny to hear words issuing from the mouth of the beast. They
were barely articulate, for although the human brain in the ape's skull
directed the
words, the muscles of the larynx in the creature's throat were normally
unequipped for the specialized task of human speech.

The guard lay down on the brink and stretched his massive, squat body.

"Your death cries will awaken me," he mumbled pleasantly, "when the
water begins to envelop your feet and the reptiles start clawing at you
through the bars of your cages." Whereupon, the ape rolled over and began
snoring.

It was then that the three captives saw the slanting, evil eyes, the
rows of flashing teeth, in a dozen hideous, reptilian faces staring greedily
up at them from the rising waters below.

"Quite ingenious," remarked Tars Tarkas, his stoic face giving no more
evidence of fear than did that of the earthman. "When the water partly
submerges us, the reptiles will reach in with their claws and begin tearing
us to pieces -- if there is any life left in us, the rising water will
drown it out when finally it
submerges the tops of our cages."

"How horrible!" gasped Dejah Thoris.

John Carter's eyes were fastened on the brink of the pit. From his cage
he could just see one of the guard's feet as the fellow lay asleep at the
edge of the
pit.

Cautioning the others to silence, Carter began swinging his body back
and forth while he held fast to the bars of his cage. If he could just
get his cage to
swinging!

The water had risen to about ten feet below their cages.

It seemed an eternity before he could get the heavy cage to even moving
slightly. Nine feet to the water surface and those hideous, staring eyes
and those gleaming teeth!

The cage was swinging now a little more, in rhythm to the earthman's
constantly swaying body.

Eight feet, seven feet, six feet came the water. There were about ten
reptiles in the water below the captives -- ten pairs of narrow, evil eyes
fixed steadily
on their prey.

The cage was swinging faster.

Five feet, four feet. Tars Tarkas and Dejah Thoris could feel the hot
breath of the reptiles!

Three, two feet! Only two more feet to go before the steadily swinging
cage would cut into the water and slow down again to a standstill.

But the iron prison, swinging pendulum-like, would reach the brink on
its next swing; so this time as the cage moved toward the brink on which
lay the sleeping guard, John Carter knew he must act and act quickly!

As the bars of the cage smacked against the cement wall of the pit,
John Carter's arms shot out with the quickness of a striking snake.

His fingers closed in a grip of steel about the ankle of the sleeping
guard.

An ear-piercing shriek rang out across the arena, echoing dismally in
the hollow crater, as the ape felt himself jerked suddenly from his slumbers.

Back swung the cage. Carter regrasped the shrieking ape with his other
hand through the bars as they swung out over the water. The reptiles had
to lower
their heads as the cage moved over them so close had the water risen.

"Good work, John Carter," came Tars Tarkas's tense words as he reached
out and grabbed hold of the ape with his four mighty hands. At the same
time, Carter's cage splashed to a sudden stop. It had hit the water's surface.

The water was flowing over the bottom of the cages. One of the reptiles
had reached a horny arm into Dejah Thoris's cage and was attempting to
snag her body with its sharp, hooked claws.

Tars Tarkas flung the ape's body with all the force of his giant thews
straight at the reptile beside the girl's cage.

"Quickly, John Carter," cried Dejah Thoris. "Save yourself while they
are fighting over the ape's body."

"Yes," echoed Tars Tarkas, "unlock your cage and get out while there
is still time."

A half-smile lifted the comer of Carter's mouth as he swung open his
prison door and leaped to the top of Dejah Thoris's cage.

"I'd sooner stay and die with you both," the earthman said, "than desert
you now."

Carter soon had the princess' prison door unlocked; but as he reached
down to lift the girl up, a reptile darted forward into the cage with the
princess.

In a quick second, Carter was inside the girl's cage, already knee-deep
in water; and he had hurled himself onto the back of the reptile. A steely
arm was
clamped tightly around the creature's neck. The head was jerked back
just in time, for the heavy jaws snapped closed only an inch from the girl's
body
"Climb out, Dejah Thoris -- to the top of the cage!" ordered Carter.
When the girl had obeyed, Carter dragged the flopping, helpless reptile
to the cage door,
as other slimy monsters started in. Using its body as a shield before
him, the earthman forced his way to the door.

In an instant he had released his hold and vaulted up on top of the
cage with the girl.

A moment later he had unlocked Tars Tarkas's cage door. After the green
man had swung up beside them without mishap, the three climbed the ropes
to the
scaffolding above and then lowered themselves down to the ground beside
the pit.

"Thank Issus", breathed the girl as they sat down to regain their breaths.
Her beautiful head was cushioned upon Carter's shoulder, and he stroked
her lovely
black hair reassuringly.

Presently the earthman rose to his feet. Tars Tarkas had motioned him
across the arena.

"There are some malagors left inside here," Tars Tarkas called from
the entrance to the cavern inside the crater from where had come Pew Mogel's
mounts.
"Good!" exclaimed Carter. "There may be a chance yet to reach and help
Helium."

A moment later they had caught two of the birds and had risen over the
ancient city of Korvas.

They spotted their planes on the outskirts of the city where they had
left them the night they were tricked into being captured by Pew Mogel.

But to their disappointment, the controls had been destroyed irreparably,
so that they were forced to continue their journey on the backs of the
malagors.
However, the malagors proved speedy mounts. By noon the next day the
trio had reached the City of Thark, inhabited by a hundred thousand green
warriors over whom Tars Tarkas ruled.

Gathering the warriors together in the market-place, Tars Tarkas and
John Carter explained the peril that confronted Helium and asked for their
support in
marching to their allies' aid.

As one man, the mighty warriors shouted their approval. The next day
dawned upon a long caravan of thoat-mounted soldiers streaming out from
the city gates toward Helium.

A messenger was sent on a malagor to the Toonolian Marshes in an attempt
to locate Kantos Kan and urge him to return home with his fleet to aid
in the
defense of Helium.

Tars Tarkas had abandoned his malagor to this messenger, in favor of
a thoat upon which he rode at the head of his warriors. Directly above
him, mounted on
the other malagor, rode Dejah Thoris and John Carter.

NineATTACK ON HELIUMJOHN CARTER AND DEJAH THORIS, mounted upon their malagor, were scouting
far ahead of the main column of advancing warriors when they first came
into sight of the besieged City of Helium.

It was bright moonlight. The princess voiced a little, disappointed
cry when she looked out across the spacious valley toward Helium. Her grandfather's
city was completely surrounded by the besieging troops of Pew Mogel.

"My poor city!" The girl was crying softly, for in the bright moonlight
below could be easily discerned the terrific gap in the ramparts and the
many crushed
and shattered buildings of the beautiful metropolis.

John Carter telepathically commanded the malagor to land upon a high
peak in the mountains overlooking the Valley of Helium.

"Listen," cautioned John Carter. Pew Mogel's light entrenched cannon
and small arms were commencing to open fire again by moonlight. "They are
getting ready for an air attack."

Suddenly, from behind the low foothills between the valley and the towering
peaks, there rose the vast, flying army of Pew Mogel.

"They are closing in from all sides," Dejah Thoris cried.

The great winged creatures and their formidable ape riders were swooping
down relentlessly upon the city. Only a few of Helium's airships rose to
give battle.

"Kantos Kan must have taken nearly all Helium's fleet with him," the
earthman remarked, "I am surprised Helium has withstood the attack as long
as this."
"You should know my people by now, John Carter," replied the princess.

"The infantry and anti-aircraft fire entrenched in Helium are doing
well,"

Carter replied. "See those birds plummet to the ground."

"They can't hold out much longer, though," the girl relied. "Those apes
are dropping bombs squarely into the city, as they swoop over, wave after
wave of
them -- oh, John Carter, what can we do?"

John Carter's old fighting smile, usually present at times of personal
danger, had given way to a stern, grave expression.

He saw below him the oldest and most powerful city on Mars being conquered
by Pew Mogel's forces. Armed with Helium's vast resources, the synthetic
man would go forth and conquer all civilized nations on Mars.

Fifty thousand years of Martian learning and culture wrecked by a power-mad
maniac -- himself the synthetic product of civilized man!

"Is there nothing we can do to stop him, John Carter?" came the girl's
repeated question.

"Very little, I'm afraid, my princess," he replied sadly. "All we can
do is station Tars Tarkas's green warriors at advantageous points in preparation
for a
counter-attack and trust to fate that our messenger reached Kantos
Kan in time that he may return and aid us.

"Without supporting aircraft, our green warriors, heroic fighters that
they are, can do little against Pew Mogel's superior numbers in the air."

When John Carter and Dejah Thoris returned to Tars Tarkas, they reported
what they had seen.

The great Thark agreed that his warriors could avail but little in a
direct attack against Pew Mogel's air force. It was decided that half their
troops be
concentrated at one point and at dawn attempt to rush through into
the City.

The remaining half of the warriors would scatter into the mountains
in smaller groups and engage the enemy in guerrilla warfare.

Thus they hoped to forestall the fate of Helium until Kantos Kan returned
with his fleet of speedy air fighters.

"Provided, of course," added Carter, "Kantos Kan's fleet reaches Helium
before Pew Mogel has entrenched himself in the City and returned his own
anti-aircraft guns upon them."

All that night in the mountains, under cover of semi-darkness, John
Carter and Tars Tarkas reorganized and restationed their troops. By dawn
all was ready.
John Carter and Tars Tarkas would lead the advance half of the Tharks
in a wild rush toward the gates of Helium; the other half would remain
behind, covering their comrades' assault with long-range rifles.

Much against the earthman's will, Dejah Thoris insisted she would ride
into the City beside him upon their malagor.

It was just commencing to grow brighter.

"Prepare to charge," Carter ordered. Tars Tarkas passed the word down
by his orderly to his unit commanders.

"Prepare to charge! Prepare to charge!" echoed down and across the battalions
of magnificent, four-armed, green fighters astride their eight-legged,
massive,
restless thoats.

The minutes dragged by as the troop lines swung around. Steel swords
were drawn from scabbards. Hammers, on short, deadly ray-pistols, clicked
back as they cocked over saddle pommels.

John Carter looked around at the girl sitting so straight and steady
behind him.

"You are very brave, my princess," he said.

"It's easy to be brave," she replied, "when I'm so close to the greatest
warrior on Mars."

"Charge!" came Carter's terse, sudden order.

Down the mountain and across the plain toward Helium streaked the savage
horde of Tharks. Out ahead raced Tars Tarkas, his sword held high.

Far ahead and above, on speedy wings, streaked the malagor carrying
John Carter and the Princess of Helium.

There was a moment's silence in the entrenched guns of the enemy. They
had seen the charging Tharks and the Helium Fleet simultaneously.

A great cry of triumph rose from the ranks of the charging warriors
at sight of the Helium Fleet streaking to their aid.

"Listen," cried Dejah Thoris to Carter, "the bells of Helium are tolling
our victory song!" Then it seemed as though all of Pew Mogel's guns broke
loose at
once; and from behind the protecting hills rose his flying legions
of winged malagors. Upon their backs rode the white apes with men's brains.

Down upon the legions of Tharks came wave after wave of Pew Mogel's
feathered squadrons. In true blitzkrieg fashion, the birds would swoop
down just out of sword's reach over the green warriors. As each bird pulled
out of its dive, the ape on its back would empty its death-dealing atomgun
into the mass of warriors beneath.

The carnage was terrific. Only after Tars Tarkas and John Carter had
led their warriors into the first lines of entrenched apes did the Tharks
find an enemy
with whom they could fight effectively.

Here, the fourarmed green soldiers of Thark fought gloriously against
the great white apes of Pew Mogel's ghastly legions.

But never for a second did the horrible death-diving squadrons cease
their attacks from above. Like angry hornets, the thousands dove, killed,
climbed,
dove, and killed again -- always killing.

John Carter masterfully controlled his frightened bird while he issued
orders and directed attacks from his vantage point immediately above the
center of
battle.

Bravely, efficiently, the Princess of Helium protected her chieftain
against countless side and rear attacks from the air. The barrel of her
radium pistol
was red-hot with constant firing; and many were the charging birds
and shrieking apes she sent catapulting into the melee below.

Suddenly a hoarse shout rose again from Pew Mogel's legions on ground
and in air.

"What is it, my chieftain?" cried the girl. "Why are the enemy shouting
in triumph?"

John Carter looked toward the advancing ships now over the mountains
only a half mile away; then his blood ran cold.

"The giant -- Joog, the giant!"

The creature had risen up from behind the shelter of a low hill, as
the ships approached above him. The giant grasped a huge tree trunk in
his mighty hand.
Even from where they were, John Carter could discern the head of a
man sitting in an armor-enclosed, steel howdah strapped to the top of Joog's
helmet.
From the giant's lips there suddenly issued a thunderous, shrieking
roar that echoed in the mountains and across the plain.

Then he clambered swiftly to the top of a small hill. Before the astonished
Heliumites could swerve their speeding craft, the giant struck out mightily
with
the great tree trunk.

The great, synthetic muscles of Pew Mogel's giant swung the huge weapon
full into the advancing craft.

The vanguard of twenty ships, the pride of Helium's airfleet met the
blow head-on -- went smashing and shattering against the mountain-side,
carrying their
crews to swift, crushing death!

TenTWO THOUSAND PARACHUTESKANTOS KAN'S FLAGSHIP narrowly escaped annihilation at the first blow
of the giant. The creature's club only missed the leading ship by a few
feet.

From their position on the malagor, John Carter and Dejah Thoris could
see many of the airships turning back toward the mountains. Others, however,
were not so fortunate.

Caught in the wild rush of air resulting from the giant's swinging club,
the craft pitched and tossed crazily out of control.

Again and again the huge tree trunk split through the air as the giant
swung blow after blow at the helpless ships.

"Kantos Kan is re-forming his fleet," John Carter shouted above the
roar of battle as the fighting on the ground was once more resumed with
increased zeal.
"The ships are returning again," cried the princess, "toward that awful
creature!"

"They are spreading out in the air," the earthman relied. "Kantos Kan
is trying to surround the giant!"

"But why?"

"Look, they are giving him some of Pew Mogel's own medicine!"

Helium's vast fleet of airships was darting in from all sides. Others
came zooming down from above, As they approached within range of their
massive
target, the gunners would pour out a veritable hail of bullets and
rays into the giant's body.

Dejah Thoris sighed in relief.

"He can't stand that much longer!" she said.

John Carter, however, shook his head sadly as the giant began to strike
down the planes with renewed fury.

"I'm afraid it's useless. Not only those bullets but the ray-guns as
well are having no effect upon the creature. His body has been imbued with
a serum that
Ras Thavas discovered. The stuff spreads throughout the tissue cells
and makes them grow immediately with unbelievable speed to replace all
wounded or
destroyed flesh."

"It is probable that he will live and grow forever, replied the earthman,
"unless something drastic is done to destroy him--"

A sudden fire of determination flared in the earthman's steel grey eyes.

"There may be a way yet to stop him, my princess, and save our people--"

A weird, bold plan had formulated itself in John Carter's mind. He was
accustomed to acting quickly on sudden impulse. Now he ordered his malagor
down
close over Tars Tarkas's head.

Although he knew the battle was hopeless, the green man was fighting
furiously on his great thoat.

"Call your men back to the mountains," shouted Carter to his old friend.
"Hide out there and reorganize -- wait for my return!"

The next half hour found John Carter and the girl beside Kantos Kan's
flagship.

The great Helium Fleet had once more retreated over the mountains to
take stock of its losses and re-form for a new attack.

Every ship's captain must have known the futility of further battle
against this indomitable element; yet they were all willing to fight to
the last for their
nation and for their princess, who had so recently been rescued.

After the earthman and the girl boarded the flagship, they freed the
great malagor that had so faithfully served them. Kantos Kan joyously greeted
the
princess on bended knee and then welcomed his old friend.

"To know you two are safe again is a pleasure that even outweighs the
great sadness of seeing our City of Helium fall into the enemy's hands,"
stated Kantos
Kan sincerely.

"We have not lost yet, Kantos Kan," said the earthman. I have a plan
that might save us -- I'll need ten of your largest planes manned by only
a minimum crew."

"I'll wire orders for them to break formation and assemble beside the
flagship immediately," replied Kantos Kan, turning to an orderly.

Almost immediately there were ten large aircraft, empty troop ships,
drifting in single file formation beside Kantos Kan's flagship. Each had
a minimum crew of ten men and two hundred parachutes, two thousand parachutes
in all!

Just before he boarded the leading ship, John Carter spoke to Kantos
Kan.

"Keep your fleet intact," he said, "until I return. Stay near Helium
and protect the city as best you can. I'll be back by dawn."

"But that monster," groaned Kantos Kan. "Look at him -- we must do something
to save Helium."

The enormous creature, standing one hundred and thirty feet tall, dressed
in his ill-fitting, baggy tunic, was tossing boulders and bombs into Helium,
his every
action dictated through short wave by Pew Mogel, who sat in the armored
howdah atop the giant's head.

John Carter laid his hand on Kantos Kan's shoulder.

"Don't waste further ships and men uselessly in fighting the creature,"
he warned; "and trust me, my friend. Do as I say -- at least until dawn!"

John Carter took Dejah Thoris's hand in his and kissed it.

"Goodbye, my chieftain," she whispered, tears filling her eyes.

"You’ll be safer here with Kantos Kan, Dejah Thoris," spoke the earthman;
and then, "Goodbye my princess," he called and vaulted lightly over the
craft's rail to the deck of the troop ship alongside. It pained him to
leave Dejah Thoris; yet he knew she was in safe hands.

When John Carter had gone, Kantos Kan unfurled Dejah Thoris's personal
colors beside the nation's flag; so that all Helium would know that their
princess had been found safe and the people be heartened by her close presence.

During his absence, Kantos Kan and Tars Tarkas followed the earthman's
orders, refraining from throwing away their forces in hopeless battle.
As a result, Pew Mogel's fighters had moved closer and closer to Helium;
while Pew Mogel himself was even now preparing Joog to lead the final assault
upon the fortressed city.

Exactly twenty-four hours later, John Carter's ten ships returned.

As he approached Helium, the earth man took in the situation at a glance.
He had feared that he would be too late, for his secret mission had occupied
more
precious time than he had anticipated.

But now he sighed with relief. There was still time to put into execution
his bold plan, the plan upon which rested the fate of a nation.

ElevenA DARING PLANFEARING THAT PEW MOCEL Might somehow intercept any shortwave signal
to Kantos
Kan, John Carter sought out the flagship and hove to alongside it.
The troop ships that had accompanied him on his secret mission were
strung out
behind their leader.
Their captains awaited the next orders of this remarkable man from
another
world. In the last twenty-four hours they had seen John Carter accomplish
a task
that no Martian would have even dreamed of attempting.
The next few hours would determine the success or failure of a plan
so fantastic
that the earthman himself had half-smiled at its contemplation.
Even his old friend, Kantos Kan, shook his head sadly when John Carter
explained
his intentions a few minutes later in the cabin of the flagship.
"I'm afraid its no use, John Carter," he said. "Even though your plan
is most
ingeniously conceived, it will avail naught against that horrible monstrosity.
"Helium is doomed, and although we shall all fight until the last to
save her,
it can do no good."
As he talked, Kantos Kan was looking down at Helium far below. Joog
the giant
could be seen on the plain hurling great boulders into the city.
Why Pew Mogel had not ordered the giant into the city itself by this
time,
Carter could not understand -- unless it was because Pew Mogel actually
enjoyed
watching the destructive effect of the boulders as they crashed into
the
buildings of Helium.
Actually, Joog, however frightful in appearance, could best serve his
master's
purpose by biding his time, for he was doing more damage at present
than he
could possibly accomplish within the city itself.
But it was only a matter of time before Pew Mogel would order a general
attack
upon the city.
Then his entrenched forces would dash in, scaling the walls and crashing
the
gates. Overhead would swoop the supporting apes on their speedy mounts,
bringing
death and destruction from the air.
And finally Joog would come, adding the final coup to Pew Mogel's victory.
The horrible carnage that would then fall upon his people made Kantos
Kan
shudder.
"There is no time to lose, Kantos Kan," spoke the earthman. "I must
have your
assurance that you will see that my orders are followed to the letter."
Kantos Kan looked at the earthman for some time before he spoke.
"You have my word, John Carter," he said, "even though I know it will
mean your
death, for no man, not even you, can accomplish what you plan to do!"
"Good!" cried the earthman. "I shall leave immediately; and when you
see the
giant raise and lower his arm three times, that will be your signal
to carry out
my orders!"
Just before he left the flagship, John Carter knocked at Dejah Thoris's
cabin
door.
"Come," he heard her reply from within. As he threw open the door,
he saw Dejah
Thoris seated at a table. She had just flicked off the visiscreen upon
which she
had caught the vision of Kantos Kan. The girl rose, tears filling her
eyes.
"Do not leave again, John Carter," she pleaded. "Kantos Kan has just
told me of
your rash plan -- it cannot possibly succeed, and you will only be
sacrificing
yourself uselessly. Stay with me, my chieftain, and we shall die together!"
John Carter strode across the room and took his princess in his arms
-- perhaps
for the last time. She pillowed her head on his broad chest and cried
softly. He
held her close for a brief moment before he spoke.
"Upon Mars," he said, "I have found a free and kindly people whose
civilization
I have learned to cherish. Their princess is the woman I love.
"She and her people to whom she belongs are in grave danger. While
there is even
a slight chance for me to save you and Helium from the terrible catastrophe
that
threatens all Mars, I must act."
Dejah Thoris straightened a little at his words and smiled bravely
as she looked
up at him.
"I'm sorry, my chieftain," she whispered. "For a minute, my love for
you made me
forget that I belong also to my people. If there is any chance of saving
them, I
would be horribly selfish to detain you; so go now and remember, if
you die the
heart of Dejah Thoris dies with you!"
A moment later John Carter was seated behind the controls of the fastest,
one-man airship in the entire Helium Navy.
He waved farewell to the two forlorn figures who stood at the rail
of the
flagship.
Then he opened wide the throttle of the quiet, radium engine. He could
feel the
little craft shudder for an instant as it gained speed. The earthman
pointed its
nose upward and rose far above the battleground.
Then he nosed over and dove down. The wind whistled shrilly off the
craft's trim
lines as its increased momentum sped it, comet-like, downward -- straight
toward
the giant!
Twelve
THE FATE OF A NATION
NEITHER PEW MOGEL nor the giant Joog had yet seen the lone craft diving
toward
them from overhead. Pew Mogel, seated inside the armored howdah that
was
attached to Joog's enormous helmet, was issuing attack orders to his
troops by
shortwave.
A strip of glass, about three feet wide, completely encircled the howdah,
enabling Pew Mogel to obtain complete, unrestricted vision of his fighting
forces below.
Perhaps if Pew Mogel had looked up through the circular glass skylight
in the
dome of his steel shelter, he would have seen the earthman's speedy
little craft
streaking down on him from above.
John Carter was banking his life, that of the woman he loved and the
survival of
Helium upon the hope that Pew Mogel would not look up.
John Carter was driving his little craft with bullet speed -- straight
toward
that circular opening on top of Pew Mogel's sanctuary.
Joog was standing still now, shoulders hunched forward, Pew Mogel had
ordered
him to be quiet while he completed his last-minute command to his troops.
The giant was on the plain between the mountains and the city. Not
until he was
five hundred feet above the little round window did Carter pull back
on the
throttle.
He had gained his great height to avoid discovery by Pew Mogel. His
speed was
for the same purpose.
Now, if he were to come out alive himself, he must slow down his hurtling
craft.
That impact must occur at exactly the right speed.
If he made the crash too fast, he might succeed only in killing himself,
with no
assurance that Pew Mogel had died with him.
On the other hand, if the speed of his ship were too slow it would
never crash
through the tough glass that covered the opening. In that case, his
crippled
plane would bounce harmlessly off the howdah and carry Carter to his
death on
the battlefield below.
One hundred feet over the window!
He shut off the motor, a quick glance at the speedometer -- too fast
for the
impact!
His hands flew over the instrument panel. He jerked back on three levers.
Three
little parachutes whipped out behind the craft. There was a tug on
the plane as
its speed slowed down.
Then the ship's nose crashed against the little window!
There was a crunch of steel, a splinter of wood, as the ship's nose
collapsed;
then a clatter of glass that ended in a dull, trembling thud as the
craft bore
through the window and lodged part way into the floor of Pew Mogel's
compartment.
The tail of the craft was protruding out of the top of the howdah,
but the
craft's door was inside the compartment.
John Carter sprang from his ship, his blade gleaming in his hand.
Pew Mogel was still spinning around crazily in his revolving chair
from the
tremendous impact. His earphones and attached microphone, with which
he had
directed Joog's actions as well as his troop formations, had been knocked
off
his head and lay on the floor at his feet.
When his foolish spin finally stopped, Pew Mogel remained seated. He
stared
incredulously at the earthman.
His small, lidless eyes bulged. He opened his crooked mouth several
times to
speak. Now his twisted fingers worked spasmodically.
"Draw your sword, Pew Mogel!" spoke the earthman so low that Pew Mogel
could
hardly bear the words.
The synthetic man made no move to obey.
"You're dead!" he finally croaked. It was like the man were trying
to convince
himself that what he saw confronting him with naked sword was only
an
ill-begotten hallucination. So hard, in fact, did Pew Mogel continue
to stare
that his left eye behaved as Carter had seen it do once before in Korvas
when
the creature was excited.
It popped out of its socket and hung down on his cheek.
"Quickly, Pew Mogel, draw your weapon -- I have no time to waste!"
Carter could feel the giant below him growing restless, shifting uneasily
on his
enormous feet. Apparently he did not yet suspect the change of masters
in the
howdah strapped to his helmet; yet he had jumped perceptibly when Carter's
craft
had torn into his master's sanctuary.
Carter reached down and picked up the microphone on the floor.
"Raise your arm," he shouted into the mouthpiece.
There was a pause; then the giant raised his right arm high over his
head.
"Lower arm," Carter commanded again. The giant obeyed.
Twice more, Carter gave the same command and the giant obeyed each
time. The
earthman half smiled. He knew Kantos Kan had seen the signal and would
follow
the orders he had given him earlier.
Now Pew Mogel's hand suddenly shot down to his side. It started back
up with a
radium gun.
There was a blinding flash as he pulled the trigger; then the gun flew
miraculously from his hand.
Carter had leaped to one side. His sword had crashed against the weapon
knocking
it from Pew Mogel's grasp.
Now the man was forced to draw his sword.
There, on top of the giant's head, fighting furiously with a synthetic
man of
Mars, John Carter found himself in one of the weirdest predicaments
of his
adventurous life.
Pew Mogel was no mean swordsman. In fact, so furious was his first
attack that
he had the earthman backing around the room hard-pressed to parry the
swift
torrent of blows that were aimed indescriminately at every inch of
his body from
head to toe.
It was a ghastly sensation, fighting with a man whose eye hung down
the side of
his face. Pew Mogel had forgotten that it had popped out. The synthetic
man
could see equally well with either eye.
Now Pew Mogel had worked the earthman over to the window. just for
an instant he
glanced out.
An exclamation of surprise escaped his lips.
Thirteen
PANIC
JOHN CARTER'S EYES FOLLOWED those of Pew Mogel. What he saw made him
smile,
renewed hope surging over him.
"Look, Pew Mogel!" he cried. "Your flying army is disbanding!"
The thousands of malagors that had littered the sky with their hairy
riders were
croaking hoarsely as they scattered in all directions. The apes astride
their
backs were unable to control their wild fright. The birds were pitching
off
their riders in wholesale lots, as their great wings flapped furiously
to escape
that which had suddenly appeared in the sky among them.
The cause of their wild flight was immediately apparent.
The air was filled with parachutes! --and dangling from each falling
parachute
was a three-legged Martian rat -- every Martian bird's hereditary foe!
In the quick glance that he took, Carter could see the creatures tumbling
out of
the troop ships into which he had loaded them during his absence of
the last
twenty-four hours.
His orders were being followed implicitly.
The rats would soon be landing among Pew Mogel's entrenched troops.
Now, however, John Carter's attention returned to his own immediate
peril.
Pew Mogel swung viciously at the earthman. The blade nicked his shoulder,
the
blood flowed down his bronzed arm.
Carter stole another glance down. Those rats would need support when
they landed
in the trenches.
Good! Tars Tarkas's green warriors were again racing out of the hills,
unhindered now by scathing fire from an enemy above.
True, the rats when they landed would attack anything in their path;
but the
green Tharks were mounted on fleet thoats -- the apes had no mounts.
No malagor
would stay within sight of its most hated enemy.
Pew Mogel was backing up now once more near the window. Out of the
corner of his
eye, Carter caught sight of Kantos Kan's air fleet zooming down toward
Pew
Mogel's ape legions far below.
Pew Mogel suddenly reached down with his free hand.
His fingers clutched the microphone that Carter had dropped when Pew
Mogel had
first rushed at him.
Now the creature held it to his lips and before the earthman could
prevent he
shouted into it.
"Joog!" he cried. "Kill! Kill! Kill!"
The next second, John Carter's blade had severed Pew Mogel's head from
his
shoulders.
The earthman dived for the microphone as it fell from the creature's
hands; but
he was met by Pew Mogel's headless body as it lunged blindly around
the room
still wielding its gleaming weapon.
Pew Mogel's head rolled about the floor, shrieking wildly as Joog charged
forward to obey his master's last command to kill!
Joog's head jerked back and forth with each enormous stride. John Carter
was
hurled roughly about the narrow compartment with each step.
Pew Mogel's headless body floundered across the floor, still striking
out madly
with the sword in its hand.
"You can't kill me. You can't kill me," shrieked Pew Mogel's head,
as it bounced
about. "I am Ras Thavas' synthetic man. I never die. I never die!"
The narrow entrance door to the howdah had flopped open as some flying
object
hit against its bolt.
Pew Mogel's body walked vacantly through the opening and went hurtling
down to
the ground far below.
Pew Mogel's head saw and shrieked in dismay; then Carter managed to
grab it by
the ear and hurl the head out after the body.
He could hear the thing shrieking, all the way down; then its cries
ceased
suddenly.
Joog was now fighting furiously with the weapon he had just uprooted.
"I kill! I kill!" he bellowed as he smacked the huge club against the
Helium
planes as they drove down over the trenches.
Although the howdah was rocking violently, Carter clung to the window.
He could
see the rats landing now by the scores, hurling themselves viciously
at the apes
in the trenches.
And Tars Tarkas' green warriors were there now, also. They were fighting
gloriously beside their great, four-armed leader.
But Joog's mighty club was mowing down a hundred fighters at a time
as he swept
it close above the ground.
Joog had to be stopped somehow!
John Carter dove for the microphone that was sliding around the floor.
He missed
it, dove again. This time his fingers held it.
"Joog -- stop! Stop!" Carter shouted into the microphone. Panting and
growling,
the great creature ceased his ruthless slaughter. He stood hunched
over, the
sullen, glaring hatred slowly dying away in his eyes, as the battle
continued to
rage at his feet.
The apes were now completely disbanded. They broke over the trenches
and ran
toward the mountains, pursued by the vicious, snarling rats and the
green
warriors of Tars Tarkas.
John Carter could see Kantos Kan's flagship hovering near Joog's head.
Fearing that Joog might aim an irritated blow at the craft with its
precious
cargo, the earthman signalled the ship to remain aloof.
Then his command once again rang into the microphone.
Joog lie down. Lie down!"
Like some tired beast of prey, Joog settled down on the ground amid
the bodies
of those he had killed.
John Carter leaped out of the howdah onto the ground. He still retained
hold of
the microphone that was tuned to the shortwave receiving set in Joog's
ear.
Joog shouted Carter again. "Go to Korvas. Go to Korvas."
The monster glared at the earthman, not ten feet from his face, and
snarled.
Fourteen
ADVENTURE'S END
ONCE AGAIN THE EARTHMAN repeated his command to Joog the giant. Now
the snarl
faded from his lips and from the brute's chest came a sound not unlike
a sigh as
he rose to his feet once again.
Turning slowly, Joog ambled off across the plain toward Korvas.
It was not until ten minutes later after the Heliumite soldiers had
stormed from
their city and surrounded the earthman and their princess that John
Carter,
holding Dejah Thoris tightly in his arms, saw Joog's head disappear
over the
mountains in the distance.
"Why did you let him go, John Carter?" asked Tars Tarkas, as he wiped
the blood
from his blade on the hide of his sweating thoat.
"Yes, why," repeated Kantos Kan, "when you had him in your power?"
John Carter turned and surveyed the battlefield.
"All the death and destruction that has been caused here today was
due not to
Joog but to Pew Mogel," replied John Carter.
"Joog is harmless, now that his evil master is dead. Why add his death
to all
those others, even if we could have killed him -- which I doubt?"
Kantos Kan was watching the rats disappear into the far mountains in
pursuit of
the great, lumbering apes.
"Tell me, John Carter," finally he said, a queer expression on his
face, "how
did you manage to capture those vicious rats, load them into those
troop ships
and even strap parachutes on them?"
John Carter smiled. "It was really simple, he said. "I had noticed
in Korvas,
when I was a prisoner in their underground city, that there was only
one means
of entrance to the cavern in which the rats live -- a single tunnel
that
continued back for some distance before it branched, although there
were
openings in the ceiling far above; but they were out of reach.
I led my men down into that tunnel and we built a huge smoke fire with
debris
from the ground above. The natural draft carried the smoke into the
cavern.
"The place became so filled with smoke that the rats passed out by
the scores
from lack of oxygen, for they couldn't get by the fire in the tunnel
-- their
only means of escape. Later, we simply went in and dragged out as many
as we
needed to load into our troop ships."
"But the parachutes!" exclaimed Kantos Kan. "How did you manage to
get those on
their backs or keep them from tearing them off when the creatures finally
became
conscious?"
"They did not regain consciousness until the last minute," replied
the earthman.
"We kept the inside cabin of each troop ship filled with enough smoke
to keep
the rats unconscious all the way to Helium. We had plenty of time to
attach the
parachutes to their backs. The rats came to in midair after my men
shoved them
out of the ships."
John Carter nodded toward the disappearing creatures in the mountains.
"They
were very much alive and fighting mad when they hit the ground, as
you saw,"
added the earthman. "They simply stepped out of their parachute harness
when
they landed, and leaped for anyone in sight.
"As for the malagors," he concluded, "they are birds -- and birds on
both earth
and Mars have no love for snakes or rats. I knew those malagors would
prefer
other surroundings when they saw and smelled their natural enemies
in the air
around them!"
Dejah Thoris looked up at her chieftain and smiled.
"Was there ever such a man before?" she asked. "Could it be that all
earthmen
are like you?"
That night all Helium celebrated its victory. The streets of the city
surged
with laughing people, The mighty, green warriors of Thark mingled in
common
brotherhood with the fighting legions of Helium.
In the royal palace was staged a great feast in honor of John Carter's
service
to Helium.
Old Tardos Mors, the Jeddak, was so choked with feeling at the miraculous
delivery of his city from the hands of their enemy and the safe return
of his
granddaughter that he was unable to speak for some time when he arose
at the
dining table to offer the kingdom's thanks to the earthman.
But when he finally spoke, his words were couched with the simple dignity
of a
great ruler. The intense gratitude of these people deeply touched the
earthman's
heart.
Later that night, John Carter and Dejah Thoris stood alone on a balcony
overlooking the royal gardens.
The moons of Mars circled majestically across the heavens, causing
the shadows
of the distant mountains to roll and tumble in an ever-changing fantasy
over the
plain and the forest.
Even the shadows of the two people on the royal balcony slowly merged
into one.

SKELETON
MEN OF JUPITERForeword

Particularly disliking forewords, I seldom read them; yet it seems that
I scarcely ever write a story that I do not inflict a foreword on my
long-suffering readers. Occasionally I also have to inject a little
weather and scenery in my deathless classics, two further examples of literary
racketeering that I especially deplore in the writings of others. Yet there
is something to be said in extenuation of weather and scenery, which, together
with adjectives, do much to lighten the burdens of authors and run up their
word count. Still, there is little excuse for forewords; and if this were
my story there would be none. However, it is not my story. It is John Carter's
story. I am merely his amanuensus.

On guard! John Carter takes his sword in hand.
EDGAR RICE BURROUGHS

OneBETRAYEDI AM NO SCIENTIST. I am a fighting man. My most beloved weapon is the
sword, and during a long life I have seen no reason to alter my theories
as to its proper application to the many problems with which I have been
faced. This is not true of the scientists. They are constantly abandoning
one theory for another one. The law of gravitation is about the only theory
that has held throughout my lifetime -- and if the earth should suddenly
start rotating seventeen times faster than it now does, even the law of
gravitation would fail us and we would all go sailing off into space.

Theories come and theories go -- scientific theories. I recall that
there was once a theory that Time and Space moved forward constantly in
a straight line. There was also a theory that neither Time nor Space existed
-- it was all in your mind's eye. Then came the theory that Time and Space
curved in upon themselves. Tomorrow, some scientist may show us reams and
reams of paper and hundreds of square feet of blackboard covered with equations,
formulae, signs, symbols, and diagrams to prove that Time and Space curve
out away from themselves. Then our theoretic universe will come tumbling
about our ears, and we shall have to start all over again from scratch.

Like many fighting men, I am inclined to be credulous concerning matters
outside my vocation; or at least I used to be. I believed whatever the
scientists said. Long ago, I believed with Flammarion that Mars was habitable
and inhabited; then a newer and more reputable school of scientists convinced
me that it was neither. Without losing hope, I was yet forced to believe
them until I came to Mars to live. They still insist that Mars is neither
habitable nor inhabited, but I live here. Fact and theory seem to be opposed.
Unquestionably, the scientists appear to be correct in theory. Equally
incontrovertible is it that I am correct in fact.

In the adventure that I am about to narrate, fact and theory will again
cross swords. I hate to do this to my long-suffering scientific friends;
but if they would only consult me first rather than dogmatically postulating
theories which do not meet with popular acclaim, they would save themselves
much embarrassment.

Dejah Thoris, my incomparable princess, and I were sitting upon a carved
ersite bench in one of the gardens of our palace in Lesser Helium when
an officer in the leather of Tardos Mors, Jeddak of Helium, Approached
and saluted. "From Tardos Mors to John Carter, kaor!" he said. "The jeddak
requests your immediate presence in the Hall of Jeddaks in the imperial
palace in Greater Helium."

"At once," I replied.

"May I fly you over, sir?" he asked. "I came in a two seater."

"Thanks," I replied. "I'll join you at the hangar in a moment." He saluted
and left us.

"Probably one of the new officers from Zor, whom Tardos Mors has commissioned
in the Jeddak's Guard. It was a gesture of his, made to assure Zor that
he has the utmost confidence in the loyalty of that city and as a measure
for healing old wounds."

Zor, which lies about three hundred eighty miles southeast of Helium,
is one of the more recent conquests of Helium and had given us a great
deal of trouble in the past because of treasonable acts instigated by a
branch of its royal family led by one Multis Par, a prince. About five
years before the events I am about to narrate occurred, this Multis Par
had disappeared; and since then Zor had given us no trouble. No one knew
what had become of the man, and it was supposed that he had either taken
the last, long voyage down the river Iss to the Lost Sea of Korus in the
Valley Dor or had been captured and murdered by members of some horde of
savage Green men. Nor did anyone appear to care -- just so he never returned
to Zor, where he was thoroughly hated for his arrogance and cruelty.

"I hope that my revered grandfather does not keep you long," said Dejah
Thoris.

"We are having a few guests for dinner tonight, and I do not wish you
to be late."

"A few!" I said. "How many? two hundred or three hundred?"

"Don't be impossible," she said, laughing. "Really, only a few."

"A thousand, if it pleases you, my dear," I assured her as I kissed
her. "And now, good-by! I'll doubtless be back within the hour."

That was a year ago!

As I ran up the ramp toward the hangar on the palace roof, I had, for
some then unaccountable reason, a sense of impending ill; but I attributed
it to the fact that my tete-a-tete with my princess had been so quickly
interrupted. The thin air of dying Mars renders the transition from day
to night startlingly sudden to an earthman. Twilight is of short duration
owing to the negligible refraction of the sun's rays. When I had left Dejah
Thoris, the sun, though low, was still shining; the garden was in shadow,
but it was still daylight. When I stepped from the head of the ramp to
that part of the roof of the palace where the hangar was located which
housed the private fliers of the family, dim twilight partially obscured
my vision. It would soon be dark. I wondered why the hangar guard had not
switched on the lights.

In the very instant that I realized that something was amiss, a score
of men surrounded and overpowered me before I could draw and defend myself.
A voice cautioned me to silence. It was the voice of the man who had summoned
me into this trap. When the others spoke, it was in a language I had never
heard before.

They spoke in dismal, hollow monotone -- expressionless, sepulchral.
They had thrown me face down upon the pavement and trussed my wrists behind
my back. Then they jerked me roughly to my feet. Now, for the first time,
I obtained a fairly good sight of my captors. I was appalled. I could not
believe my own eyes. These things were not men. They were human skeletons!
Black eye sockets looked out from grinning skulls. Bony, skeletal fingers
grasped my arms. It seemed to me that I could see every bone in each body.
Yet the things were alive! They moved. They spoke. They dragged me toward
a strange craft that I had not before noticed. It lay in the shadow of
the hangar -- long, lean, sinister.

It looked like an enormous projectile, with rounded nose and tapering
tail. In the first brief glance I had of it, I saw fins forward below its
median line, a long, longitudinal aileron (or so I judged it to be) running
almost the full length of the ship, and strangely designed elevator and
rudder as part of the empennage assembly. I saw no propellers; but then
I had little time for a close examination of the strange craft, as I was
quickly hustled through a doorway in its metal side. The interior was pitch
dark. I could see nothing other than the faint light of the dying day visible
through long, narrow portholes in the ship's side.

The man who had betrayed me followed me into the ship with my captors.
The door was closed and securely fastened; then the ship rose silently
into the night. No light showed upon it, within or without. However, I
was certain that one of our patrol ships must see it; then, if nothing
more, my people would have a clew upon which to account for my disappearance;
and before dawn a thousand ships of the navy of Helium would be scouring
the surface of Barsoom and the air above it in search of me, nor could
any ship the size of this find hiding place wherein to elude them.

Once above the city, the lights of which I could see below us, the craft
shot away at appalling speed. Nothing upon Barsoom could have hoped to
overhaul it. It moved at great speed and in utter silence. The cabin lights
were switched on. I was disarmed and my hands were freed. I looked with
revulsion, almost with horror, upon the twenty or thirty creatures which
surrounded me. I saw now that they were not skeletons, though they still
closely resembled the naked bones of dead men. Parchmentlike skin was stretched
tightly over the bony structure of the skull. There seemed to be neither
cartilage nor fat underlying it. What I had thought were hollow eye sockets
were deep set brown eyes showing no whites. The skin of the face merged
with what should have been gums at the roots of the teeth, which were fully
exposed in both jaws, precisely as are the teeth of a naked skull. The
nose was but a gaping hole in the center of the face. There were no external
ears -- only the orifices -- nor was there any hair upon any of the exposed
parts of their bodies nor upon their heads. The things were even more hideous
than the hideous kaldanes of Bantoom -- those horrifying spider men into
whose toils fell Tara of Helium during that adventure which led her to
the country of The Chessmen of Mars; they, at least, had beautiful bodies,
even though they were not their own.

The bodies of my captors harmonized perfectly with their heads -- parchmentlike
skin covered the bones of their limbs so tightly that it was difficult
to convince one's self that it was not true bone that was exposed. And
so tightly was this skin drawn over their torsos that every rib and every
vertebra stood out in plain and disgusting relief. When they stood directly
in front of a bright light, I could see their internal organs.

They wore no clothing other than a G string. Their harness was quite
similar to that which we Barsoomians wear, which is not at all remarkable,
since it was designed to serve the same purpose -- supporting a sword,
a dagger, and a pocket pouch.

Disgusted, I turned away from them to look down upon the moon bathed
surface of my beloved Mars. But where was it! Close to port was Cluros,
the farther moon! I caught a glimpse of its surface as we flashed by. Fourteen
thousand five hundred miles in a little more than a minute! It was incredible.

The red man who had engineered my capture came and sat down beside me.
His rather handsome face was sad. "I am sorry, John Carter," he said. "Perhaps,
if you will permit me to explain, you will at least understand why I did
it. I do not expect that you will ever forgive me."

"Where is this ship taking me?" I demanded.

"To Sasoom," he said.

Sasoom! That is the Barsoomian name for Jupiter -- three hundred and
forty-two million miles from the palace where my Dejah Thoris awaited me!

TwoU DANFOR SOME TIME I SAT IN SILENCE, gazing out into the inky black void
of space, a Stygian backdrop against which stars and planets shone with
intense brilliancy, steady and untwinkling. To port or starboard, above,
below, the heavens stared at me with unblinking eyes -- millions of white
hot, penetrating eyes. Many questions harrassed my mind. Had I been especially
signalled out for capture? If so, why? How had this large ship been able
to enter Helium and settle upon my landing stage in broad daylight? Who
was this sad faced, apologetic man who had led me into such a trap? He
could have nothing against me personally. Never, before he had stepped
into my garden, had I seen him. It was he who broke the silence. It was
as though he had read my thoughts.

"You wonder why you are here, John Carter," he said. "If you will bear
with me, I shall tell you. In the first place, let me introduce myself.
I am U Dan, formerly a padwar in the guard of Zu Tith, the jed of Zor who
was killed in battle when Helium overthrew his tyrannical reign and annexed
the city.

"My sympathies were all upon the side of Helium, and I saw a brilliant
and happy future for my beloved city once she was a part of the great Heliumetic
empire. I fought against Helium; because it was my sworn duty to defend
the jed I loathed - a monster of tyranny and cruelty -- but when the war
was over, I gladly swore allegiance to Tardos Mors, jeddak of Helium. I
had been raised in the palace of the jed in utmost intimacy with the members
of the royal family. I knew them all well, especially Multis Par, the prince,
who, in the natural course of events, would have succeeded to the throne.
He was of a kind with his father, Zu Tith -- arrogant, cruel, tyrannical
by nature.

After the fall of Zor, he sought to foment discord and arouse the people
to revolt. When he failed, he disappeared. That was about five years ago.

"Another member of the royal family whom I knew well was as unlike Zu
Tith and Multis Par as day is unlike night. Her name is Vaja. She is a
cousin of Multis Par. I loved her and she loved me. We were to have been
married, when, about two years after the disappearance of Multis Par, Vaja
mysteriously disappeared." I did not understand why he was telling me all
this. I was certainly not interested in his love affairs. I was not interested
in him. I was still less interested, if possible, in Multis Par; but I
listened.

"I searched," he continued. "The governor of Zor gave me every assistance
within his power, but all to no avail. Then, one night, Multis Par entered
my quarters when I was alone. He wasted no time. He came directly to the
point. "'I suppose,' he said, 'that you are wondering what has become of
Vaja.' "I knew then that he had been instrumental in her abduction; and
I feared the worst, for I knew the type of man he was. I whipped out my
sword.

'Where is she?' I demanded. 'Tell me, if you care to live.'

"He only laughed at me. 'Don't be a fool,' he said. 'If you kill me
you will never see her again. You will never even know where she is. Work
with me, and you may have her back. But you will have to work fast, as
I am becoming very fond of her. It is odd,' he added reminiscentally, 'that
I could have lived for years in the same palace with her and have been
blind to her many charms, both mental and physical -- especially physical.'

"'Where is she?' I demanded. 'If you have harmed her, you beast--' "

'Don't call names, U Dan,' he said. 'If you annoy me too greatly I may
keep her for myself and enlist the services of some one other than you
to assist me with the plan I had come to explain to you. I thought you
would be more sensible. You used to be a very sensible man; but then, of
course, love plays strange tricks upon one's mental processes. I am commencing
to find that out in my own case.' He gave a nasty little laugh. 'But don't
worry,' he continued. 'She is quite safe -- so far. How much longer she
will be safe depends wholly upon you.’

"'Where is she?' I demanded.

"'Where you can never get her without my help,' he replied.

"'If she is anywhere upon all Barsoom, I shall find her,' I said.

"'She is not on Barsoom. She is on Sasoom.'

"'You lie, Multis Par,' I said.

"He shrugged, indifferently. 'Perhaps you will believe her,' he said,
and handed me a letter. It was indeed from Vaja. I recall its message word
for word:

"'Incredible as it may seem to you, I am a prisoner on Sasoom. Multis
Par has promised to bring you here to me if you will perform what he calls
a small favor for him. I do not know what he is going to ask of you; but
unless it can be honorably done, do not do it. I am safe and unharmed.'

"What is it you wish me to do?" I asked.

"I shall not attempt to quote his exact words; but this, in effect,
is what he told me: Multis Par's disappearance from Zor was caused by his
capture by men from Sasoom. For some time they had been coming to this
planet, reconnoitering, having in mind the eventual conquest of Barsoom.

"I asked him for what reason, and he explained that it was simply because
they were a warlike race. Their every thought was of war, as it had been
for ages until the warlike spirit was as compelling as the urge for self-preservation.
They had conquered all other peoples upon Sasoom and sought a new world
to conquer.

"They had captured him to learn what they could of the armaments and
military effectiveness of various Barsoomian nations, and had decided that
as Helium was the most powerful, it would be Helium upon which they would
descend. Helium once disposed of, the rest of Barsoom would, they assumed,
be easy to conquer."

"And where do I come in in this scheme of theirs?" I asked. "I am coming
to that," said U Dan. "The Morgors are a thorough-going and
efficient people. They neglect no littlest detail which might effect
the success or failure of a campaign. They already have excellent maps
of Barsoom and considerable data relative to the fleets and armament of
the principal nations. They now wish to check this data and obtain full
information as to the war technique of the Heliumites. This they expect
to get from you. This they will get from you."

I smiled. "Neither they nor you rate the honor and loyalty of a Heliumite
very highly."

A sad smile crossed his lips. "I know how you feel," he said. "I felt
the same way -- until they captured Vaja and her life became the price
of my acquiescence.

Only to save her did I agree to act as a decoy to aid in your capture.
The Morgors are adepts in individual and mass psychology as well as in
the art of war."

"These things are Morgors?" I asked, nodding in the direction of some
of the repulsive creatures. U Dan nodded. "I can appreciate the position
in which you have been placed," I said, "but the Morgors have no such hold
on me."

"Wait," said U Dan.

"What do you mean?" I demanded.

"Just wait. They will find a way. They are fiends. No one could have
convinced me before Multis Par came to me with his proposition that I could
have been forced to betray a man whom I, with all decent men, admire as
I have admired you, John Carter. Perhaps I was wrong, but when I learned
that Vaja would be tortured and mutilated after Multis Par had had his
way with her and even then not be allowed to die but kept for future torture,
I weakened and gave in. I do not expect you to forgive, but I hope that
you will understand."

"I do understand," I said. "Perhaps, under like circumstances, I should
have done the same thing." I could see how terribly the man's conscience
tortured him, I could see that he was essentially a man of honor. I could
forgive him for the thing that he had done for an innocent creature whom
he loved, but could he expect me to betray my country, betray my whole
world, to save a woman I had never seen. Still, I was bothered. Frankly,
I did not know what I should do when faced with the final decision. "At
least," I said, "should I ever be situated as you were, I could appear
to comply while secretly working to defeat their ends."

"It was thus that I thought," he said. "It is still the final shred
by which I cling to my self-respect. Perhaps, before it is too late, I
may still be able to save both Vaja and yourself."

"Perhaps we can work together to that end and to the salvation of Helium,"
I said; "though I am really not greatly worried about Helium. I think she
can take care of herself."

He shook his head. "Not if a part, even, of what Multis Par has told
me is true. They will come in thousands of these ships, invisible to the
inhabitants of Barsoom. Perhaps two million of them will invade Helium
and overrun her two principal cities before a single inhabitant is aware
that a single enemy threatens their security. They will come with lethal
weapons of which Barsoomians know nothing and which they cannot, therefore,
combat."

"Invisible ships!" I exclaimed. "Why I saw this one plainly after I
was captured."

"Yes," he said. "It was not invisible then, but it was invisible when
it came in broad daylight under the bows of your patrol ships and landed
in one of the most prominent places in all Lesser Helium. It was not invisible
when you first saw it; because it had cast off its invisibility, or, rather,
the Morgors had cast it off so that they might find it again themselves,
for otherwise it would have been as invisible to them as to us."

"Do you know how they achieve this invisibility?" I asked.

"Multis Par has explained it to me," relied U Dan. "Let me see; I am
not much of a scientist, but I think that I recall more or less correctly
what he told me. It seems that on some of the ocean beaches on Sasoom there
is a submicroscopic, magnetic sand composed of prismatic crystals. When
the Morgors desire invisibility for a ship, they magnetize the hull; and
then, from countless tiny apertures in the hull, they coat the whole exterior
of the ship with these prismatic crystals. They simply spray them out,
and they settle in a cloud upon the hull, causing light rays to bend around
the ship. The instant that the hull is demagnetized, these tiny particles,
light as air, fall or are blown off; and instantly the ship is visible
again."

Here, a Morgor approached and interrupted our conversation. His manner
was arrogant and rude. I could not understand his words, as he spoke his
own language in the hollow, graveyard tones I had previously noticed. U
Dan replied in the same language but in a less lugubrious tone of voice;
then he turned to me.

"Your education is to commence at once," he said, with a wry smile.

"What do you mean?" I asked.

"During this voyage you are to learn the language of the Morgors," he
explained.

"How long is the voyage going to last?" I asked. "It takes about three
months to learn a language well enough to understand and make yourself
understood."

"The voyage will take about eighteen days, as we shall have to make
a detour of some million miles to avoid the Asteroids. They happen to lie
directly in our way.

"I am supposed to learn their language in eighteen days?" I asked.

"You are not only supposed to, but you will," replied U Dan.

ThreeTHE MORGORS OF SASOOM...MY EDUCATION COMMENCED. It was inconceivably brutal, but most effective.
My instructors worked on me in relays, scarcely giving me time to eat or
sleep. U Dan assisted as interpreter, which was immensely helpful to me,
as was the fact that I am exceedingly quick in picking up new languages.
Some times I was so overcome by lack of sleep that my brain lagged and
my responses were slow and inaccurate. Upon one such occasion, the Morgor
who was instructing me slapped my face. I had put up with everything else;
because I was so very anxious to learn their language -- a vital necessity
if I were ever to hope to cope with them and thwart their fantastic plan
of conquest. But I could not put up with that. I hit the fellow a single
blow that sent him entirely across the cabin, but I almost broke my hand
against his unpadded, bony jaw.

He did not get up. He lay where he had fallen. Several of his fellows
came for me with drawn swords. The situation looked bad, as I was unarmed.
U Dan was appalled. Fortunately for me, the officer in command of the ship
had been attracted by the commotion and appeared at the scene of action
in time to call his men off. He demanded an explanation. I had now mastered
sufficient words of their language so that I could understand almost everything
that was said to me and make myself understood by them, after a fashion.
I told the fellow that I had been starved and deprived of sleep and had
not complained, but that no man could strike me without suffering the consequences.

"And no creature of a lower order may strike a Morgor without suffering
the consequences," he replied.

"What are you going to do about it?" I asked. "I am going to do nothing
about it," he relied. "My orders require me to bring you alive to Eurobus.
When I have done that and reported your behavior, it will lie wholly within
the discretion of Bandolian as to what your punishment shall be;" then
he walked away, but food was brought me and I was allowed to sleep; nor
did another Morgor strike me during the remainder of the voyage.

While I was eating, I asked U Dan what Eurobus was. "It is their name
for the planet Sasoom," he relied.

"And who is Bandolian?"

"Well, I suppose he would be called a jeddak on Barsoom. I judge this
from the numerous references I have heard them make concerning him.
Anyhow, he seems to be an object of fear if not veneration."

After a long sleep, I was much refreshed. Everything that I had been
taught was clear again in my mind, no longer dulled by exhaustion. It was
then that the commander took it upon himself to examine me personally.
I am quite sure that he did so for the sole purpose of finding fault with
me and perhaps punishing me. He was extremely nasty and arrogant. His simplest
questions were at first couched in sarcastic language; but finally, evidently
disappointed, he left me. I was given no more instruction.

"You have done well," said U Dan. "You have, in a very short time, mastered
their language well enough to suit them."

This was the fifteenth day. During the last three days they left me
alone. Travelling through space is stupifyingly monotonous. I had scarcely
glanced from the portholes for days. This was, however, principally because
my time was constantly devoted to instruction; but now, with nothing else
to do, I glanced out. A most gorgeous scene presented itself to my astonished
eyes. Gorgeous Jupiter loomed before me in all his majestic immensity.
Five of his planets were plainly visible in the heavens. I could even see
the tiny one closest to him, which is only thirty miles in diameter. During
the ensuing two days, I saw, or at least I thought I saw, all of the remaining
five moons. And Jupiter grew larger and more imposing. We were approaching
him at the very considerable speed of twenty-three miles per second, but
were still some two million miles distant.

Freed from the monotony of language lessons, my mind was once more enslaved
to my curiosity. How could life exist upon a planet which one school of
scientific thought claimed to have a surface temperature of two hundred
and sixty degrees below zero and which another school was equally positive
was still in a half molten condition and so hot that gases rose as hot
vapor into its thick, warm atmosphere to fall as incessant rain? How could
human life exist in an atmosphere made up largely of ammonia and methane
gases? And what of the effect of the planet's terrific gravitational pull?
Would my legs be able to support my weight? If I fell down, would I be
able to rise again?

Another question which presented itself to my mind, related to the motive
power which had been carrying us through space at terrific speeds for seventeen
days. I asked U Dan if he knew.

"They utilize the Eighth Barsoomian Ray, what we know as the ray of
propulsion, in combination with the highly concentrated gravitational forces
of all celestial bodies within the range of whose attraction the ship passes,
and a concentration of Ray L (cosmic rays) which are collected from space
and discharged at high velocities from propulsion tubes at the ship's stern.
The eighth Barsoomian Ray helps to give the ship initial velocity upon
leaving a planet and as a brake to its terrific speed when approaching
its landing upon another. Gravitational forces are utilized both to accelerate
speed and to guide the ship. The secret of their success with these inter-planetary
ships lies in the ingenious methods they have developed for concentrating
these various forces and directing their tremendous energies."

"Thanks, U Dan," I said, "I think I grasp the general idea. It would
certainly surprise some of my scientific friends on earth."

My passing reference to scientists started me to thinking of the vast
accumulation of theories I was about to see shattered when I landed on
Jupiter within the next twenty-four hours. It certainly must be habitable
for a race quite similar to our own. These people had lungs, a heart, kidneys,
a liver, and other internal organs similar to our own. I knew this for
a fact, as I could see them every time one of the Morgors stood between
me and a bright light, so thin and transparent was the parchmentlike skin
that stretched tightly over their frames. Once more the scientists would
be wrong. I felt sorry for them. They have been wrong so many times and
had to eat humble pie. There were those scientists, for instance, who clung
to the Ptolemaic System of the universe; and who, after Galileo had discovered
four of the moons of Jupiter in 1610, argued that such pretended discoveries
were absurd, their argument being that since we have seven openings in
the head -- two ears, two eyes, two nostrils, and a month, there could
be in the heavens but seven planets. Having dismissed Galileo's absurd
pretensions in this scientific manner, they caused him to be thrown into
jail.

When at a distance of about five hundred thousand miles from Jupiter,
the ship began to slow down very gradually in preparation for a landing;
and some three or four hours later we entered the thick cloud envelope
which surrounds the planet. We were barely crawling along now at not more
than six hundred miles an hour.

I was all eagerness to see the surface of Jupiter; and extremely impatient
of the time that it took the ship to traverse the envelope, in which we
could see absolutely nothing. At last we broke through, and what a sight
was revealed to my astonished eyes! A great world lay below me, illuminated
by a weird red light which seemed to emanate from the inner surface of
the cloud envelope, shedding a rosy glow over mountain, hill, dale, plain,
and ocean. At first I could in no way account for this all pervading illumination;
but presently, my eyes roving over the magnificent panorama lying below
me, I saw in the distance an enormous volcano, from which giant flames
billowed upward thousands of feet into the air. As I was to learn later,
the crater of this giant was a full hundred miles in diameter and along
the planet's equator there stretched a chain of these Gargantuan torches
for some thirty thousand miles, while others were dotted over the entire
surface of the globe, giving both light and heat to a world that would
have been dark and cold without them. As we dropped lower, I saw what appeared
to be cities, all located at a respectful distance from these craters.

In the air, I saw several ships similar to that which had brought me
from Mars. Some were very small; others were much larger than the one with
which I had become so familiar. Two small ships approached us, and we slowed
down almost to a stop. They were evidently patrol ships. From several ports
guns were trained on us. One of the ships lay at a little distance; the
other came alongside. Our commander raised a hatch in the upper surface
of the ship above the control room and stuck his head out. A door in the
side of the patrol ship opened, and an officer appeared. The two exchanged
a few words; then the commander of the patrol ship saluted and closed the
door in which he had appeared. We were free to proceed. All this had taken
place at an altitude of some five thousand feet.

We now spiraled down slowly toward a large city. Later, I learned that
it covered an area of about four hundred square miles. It was entirely
walled, and the walls and buildings were of a uniform dark brown color,
as were the pavements of the avenues. It was a dismal, repellant city built
entirely of volcanic rock. Within its boundaries I could see no sign of
vegetation -- not a patch of sward, not a shrub, not a tree; no color to
relieve the monotony of somber brown.

The city was perfectly rectangular, having a long axis of about twenty-five
miles and a width of about sixteen. The avenues were perfectly straight
and equidistant, one from the other, cutting the city into innumerable,
identical square blocks. The buildings were all perfect rectangles, though
not all of either the same size or height -- the only break in the depressing
monotony of this gloomy city.

Well, not the only break: there were open spaces where there were no
buildings -- perhaps plazas or parade grounds. But these I did not notice
until we had dropped quite low above the city, as they were all paved with
the same dark brown rock. The city was quite as depressing in appearance
as is Salt Lake City from the air on an overcast February day. The only
relief from this insistent sense of gloom was the rosy light which pervaded
the scene, the reflection of the flames of the great volcanoes from the
inner surface of the cloud envelope; this and the riotous growth of tropical
verdure beyond the city's walls -- weird, unearthly growths of weird unearthly
hues.

Accompanied by the two patrol ships, we now dropped gently into a large
open space near the center of the city, coming to rest close to a row of
hangars in which were many craft similar to our own.

We were immediately surrounded by a detail of warriors; and, much to
my surprise, I saw a number of human beings much like myself in appearance,
except that their skins were purple. These were unarmed and quite naked
except for G strings, having no harness such as is worn by the Morgors.
As soon as we had disembarked, these people ran the ship into the hangar.
They were slaves.

There were no interchanges of greetings between the returning Morgors
and those who had come out to meet the ship. The two commanding officers
saluted one another and exchanged a few routine military brevities. The
commander of our ship gave his name, which was Haglion, the name of his
ship, and stated that he was returning from Mars -- he called it Garobus,
Then he detailed ten of his own men to accompany him as guards for U Dan
and me. They surrounded us, and we walked from the landing field in the
wake of Haglion.

He led us along a broad avenue filled with pedestrian and other traffic.
On the sidewalks there were only Morgors. The purple people walked in the
gutters. Many Morgors were mounted on enormous, repulsive looking creatures
with an infinite number of legs. They reminded me of huge centipedes, their
bodies being jointed similarly, each joint being about eighteen inches
long. Their heads were piscine and extremely ugly. Their jaws were equipped
with many long, sharp teeth. Like nearly all the land animals of Jupiter,
as I was to learn later, they were ungulate, hoofs evidently being rendered
necessary by the considerable areas of hardened lava on the surface of
the planet, as well as by the bits of lava rock which permeate the soil.

These creatures were sometimes of great length, seating as high as ten
or twelve Morgors on their backs. There were other beasts of burden on
the avenue. They were of strange, unearthly forms; but I shall not bore
you by describing them here. Above this traffic moved small fliers in both
directions. Thus the avenue accommodated a multitude of people, strange,
dour people who seldom spoke and, as far as I had seen, never laughed.
They might have, as indeed they looked, risen from sad graves to rattle
their bones in mock life in a cemetery city of the dead.

U Dan and I walked in the gutter, a guard on the sidewalk close beside
each of us. We were not good enough to walk where the Morgors walked! Haglion
led us to a large plaza surrounded by buildings of considerable size but
of no beauty. A few of them boasted towers -- some squat, some tall, all
ugly. They looked as though they had been built to endure throughout the
ages.

We were conducted to one of these buildings, before the entrance to
which a single sentry stood. Haglion spoke to him, and he summoned an officer
from the interior of the building, after which we all entered. Our names
and a description of each of us were entered in a large book. Haglion was
given a receipt for us, after which he and our original escort left.

Our new custodian issued instructions to several warriors who were in
the room, and they hustled U Dan and me down a spiral stairway to a dim
basement, where we were thrown into a gloomy cell. Our escort locked the
door on us and departed.

Four...AND THE SAVATORSALTHOUGH I HAD OFTEN WONDERED ABOUT JUPITER, I had never hoped nor
cared to visit it because of the inhospitable conditions which earthly
scientists assure us pertain to this great planet. However, here I was,
and conditions were not at all as the scientists had described.

Unquestionably, the mass of Jupiter is far greater than that of earth
or Mars, yet I felt the gravitational pull far less than I had upon earth.
It was even less than that which I had experienced upon Mars. This was
due, I realized, to the rapid revolution of the planet upon its axis. Centrifugal
force, tending to throw me off into space, more than outweighed the increased
force of gravitation. I had never before felt so light upon my feet. I
was intrigued by contemplation of the height and distances to which I might
jump.

The cell in which I found myself, while large, precluded any experiments
along that line. It was a large room of hard, brown lava rock. A few white
lights set in recesses in the ceiling gave meager illumination. From the
center of one wall a little stream of water tinkled into a small cavity
in the floor, the overflow being carried off by a gutter through a small
hole in the end wall of the cell. There were some grass mats on the
floor. These constituted the sole furnishings of the bleak prison.

"The Morgors are thoughtful hosts," I remarked to U Dan. "They furnish
water for drinking and bathing. They have installed sewage facilities.
They have given us whereon to lie or sit. Our cell is lighted. It is strong.
We are secure against the attacks of our enemies. However, as far as the
Morgors are concerned, I--"

"S-s-sh!" cautioned U Dan. "We are not alone." He nodded toward the
far end of the cell. I looked, and for the first time perceived what appeared
to be the figure of a man stretched upon a mat.

Simultaneously, it arose and came toward us. It was indeed, a man. "You
need have no fear of me," he said "Say what you please of the Morgors.
You could not possibly conceive any terms of opprobrium in which to describe
them more virulent than those which I have long used and considered inadequate."

Except that the man's skin was a light blue, I could not see that he
differed materially in physical appearance from U Dan and myself. His body,
which was almost naked, was quite hairless except for a heavy growth on
his head and for eyebrows and eyelashes. He spoke the same language as
the Morgors. U Dan and I had been conversing in the universal language
of Barsoom. I was surprised that the man had been able to understand us.
U Dan and I were both silent for a moment.

"We do," I said, "but we were surprised that you understood our language."

The fellow laughed. "I did not," he said. "You mentioned the Morgors,
so I knew that you were speaking of them; and then, when your companion
discovered me, he warned you to silence; so I guessed that you were saying
something uncomplimentary about our captors. Tell me -- who are you? You
are no Morgors, nor do you look like us Savators."

"We are from Barsoom," I said.

"The Morgors call it Garobus," explained U Dan.

I have heard of it," said the Savator. "It is a world that lies far
above the clouds. The Morgors are going to invade it. I suppose they have
captured you
either to obtain information from you or to hold you as hostages."

"For both purposes, I imagine," said U Dan. "Why are you imprisoned?"

"I accidentally bumped into a Morgor who was crossing an avenue at an
intersection. He struck me and I knocked him down. For that, I shall be
destroyed at the graduation exercises of the next class."

"What do you mean by that?" I asked.

"The education of the Morgor youth consists almost wholly of subjects
and exercises connected with the art of war. Because it is spectacular,
because it arouses the blood lust of the participants and the spectators,
personal combat winds up the exercises upon graduation day. Those of the
graduating class who survive are inducted into the warrior caste -- the
highest caste among the Morgors. Art, literature, and science, except as
they may pertain to war, are held in contempt by the Morgors. They have
been kept alive upon Eurobus only through the efforts of us Savators; but,
unfortunately, to the neglect of offensive military preparation and training.
Being a peace loving people, we armed only for defense." He smiled ruefully
and shrugged. "But wars are not won by defensive methods."

"Tell us more about the graduating exercises," said U Dan. "The idea
is intriguing. With whom does the graduating class contend?"

"With criminals and slaves," replied the Savator. Mostly men of my race,"
he added; "although sometimes there are Morgor criminals of the worst types
sentenced to die thus. It is supposed to be the most shameful death that
a Morgor can die -- fighting shoulder to shoulder with members of a lower
order against their own kind."

"Members of a lower order!" I exclaimed. "Do the Morgors consider you
that?"

"Just a step above the dumb beasts, but accountable for our acts because
we are supposed to be able 'to differentiate between right and wrong --
wrong being any word or act or facial expression adversely critical of
anything Mogorian or that can be twisted into a subversive act or gesture."

"And suppose you survive the graduating contest?" I asked. "Are you
then set at liberty?"

"In theory, yes," he replied; "but in practice, never."

"You mean they fail to honor terms of their own making?" demanded U
Dan.

The Savator laughed. "They are entirely without honor," he said, "yet
I do not know that they would not liberate one who survived the combat;
because, insofar as I know, no one ever has. You see, the members of the
graduating class outnumber their antagonists two to one."

This statement gave me a still lower estimate of the character of the
Morgors than I had already inferred from my own observation of them. It
is not unusual that a warlike people excel in chivalry and a sense of honor;
but where all other characteristics are made subservient to brutality,
finer humanistic instincts atrophy and disappear.

We sat in silence for some time. It was broken by the Savator. "I do
not know your names, he said. "Mine is Zan Dar."

As I told him ours, a detail of Morgor warriors came to our cell and
ordered U Dan and me to accompany them. "Good-by!" said Zan Dar. "We probably
shall never meet again."

"Shut up, thing!" admonished one of the warriors.

Zan Dar winked at me and laughed. The Morgor was furious. "Silence,
creature!" he growled. I thought for a moment that he was going to fall
upon Zan Dar with his sword, but he who was in charge of the detail ordered
him out of the cell. The incident was but another proof of the egomaniac
arrogance of the Morgors. However, it helped to crystallize within me an
admiration and liking for the Savator that had been growing since first
he spoke to us. U Dan and I were led across the plaza to a very large building
the entrance to which was heavily guarded. The hideous, grinning, skull-like
heads of the warriors and their skeletal limbs and bodies, together with
the dark and cavernous entrance to the building suggested a grisly fantasia
of hell's entrance guarded by the rotting dead. It was not a pleasant thought.

We were held here for quite some time, during which some of the warriors
discussed us as one might discuss a couple of stray alley cats. "They are
like the Savators and yet unlike them," said one.

"They are quite as hideous," said another.

"One of them is much darker than the other."

Now, for the first time, I was struck by the color of these Morgors.
Instead of being ivory color, they were a pink or rosy shade. I looked
at U Dan. He was a very dark red. A glance at my arms and hands showed
that they, too, were dark red; but not as dark a red as U Dan. At
first I was puzzled; then I realized that the reflection of the red glare
of the volcanoes from the inner surface of the cloud envelope turned our
reddish skins a darker red and made the yellow, parchmentlike skins of
the Morgors appear pink. As I looked around, I realized that this same
reddish hue appeared upon everything within sight. It reminded me of a
verse in a popular song I heard some time ago on one of my visits to earth.

It went, I think: "I am looking at the world through rose colored glasses,
and everything is rosy now." Well, everything wasn't rosy with me, no matter
how rosy this world looked.

Presently an officer came to the entrance and ordered our escort to
bring us in.

The interior of the building was as unlovely as its exterior. Although
this was, as I later learned, the principal palace of the Morgor ruler,
there was absolutely no sign of ornamentation. No art relieved the austerity
of gloomy, lava-brown corridors and bare, rectangular chambers. No hangings
softened the sharp edges of openings; no rugs hid even a part of the bare,
brown floors. The pictureless walls frowned down upon us. I have seldom
been in a more depressing environment. Even the pits beneath the deserted
cities of Barsoom often had interesting vaulted ceilings, arched doorways,
elaborate old iron grill work, attesting the artistic temperaments of their
designers. The Morgors, like death, were without art.

We were led to a large, bare chamber in which a number of Morgors were
clustered about a desk at which another of the creatures was seated. All
Morgors look very much alike to me, yet they do have individual facial
and physical characteristics; so I was able to recognize Haglion among
those standing about the desk. It was Haglion who had commanded the ship
that had brought me from Mars.

U Dan and I were halted at some distance from the group, and as we stood
there two other red Martians were brought into the room -- a man and a
girl. The girl was very beautiful. "Vaja!" exclaimed U Dan, but I did not
need this evidence to know who she was. I was equally certain that the
man was Multis Par, Prince of Zor. He appeared nervous and downcast, but
even so the natural arrogance of the man was indelibly stamped upon his
features.

At U Dan's exclamation, one of those guarding us whispered, "Silence,
thing!"

Vaja's eyes went wide in incredulity as she recognized my companion;
and she took an impulsive step toward him, but a warrior seized her arm
and restrained her. The faint shadow of a malicious smile touched the thin
lips of Multis Par.

The man seated at the desk issued an order, and all four of us were
brought forward and lined up in front of him. The fellow differed in appearance
not at all from other Morgors. He wore no ornaments, His harness and weapons
were quite plain but evidently serviceable. They were marked with a hieroglyph
that differed from similar markings on the harness and weapons of the other
Morgors, as those of each of the others differed from all the rest. I did
not know then what they signified; but later learned that each hieroglyph
indicated the name, rank, and title of him who wore it. The hieroglyph
of the man at the desk was that of Bandolian, Emperor of the Morgors.

Spread upon the desk before Bandolian was a large map, which I instantly
recognized as that of Barsoom. The man and his staff had evidently been
studying it. As U Dan and I were halted before his desk with Vaja and Multis
Par, Bandolian looked up at the Prince of Zor.

"Which is he," he asked, "who is called Warlord of Barsoom?" Multis
Par indicated me, and Bandolian turned his hollow eyes upon me. It was
as though Death had looked upon me and singled me out as his own. "I understand
that your name is John Carter," he said. I nodded in affirmation. "While
you are of a lower order," he continued, "yet it must be that you are endowed
with intelligence of a sort. It is to this intelligence that I address
my commands. I intend to invade and conquer Barsoom (he called it Garobus),
and I command you to give me all the assistance in your power by acquainting
me and my staff with such military information as you may possess relative
to the principal powers of Garobus, especially that one known as the Empire
of Helium. In return for this your life will be spared."

I looked at him for a moment, and then I laughed in his face. The faintest
suggestion of a flush overspread the pallor of his face. "You dare laugh
at me, thing!" he growled.

"It is my answer to your proposition," I said.

Bandolian was furious. "Take it away and destroy it!" he ordered. "Wait,
Great Bandolian!" urged Multis Par. "His knowledge is almost indispensable
to you, and I have a plan whereby you may make use of it."

"What is it?" demanded Bandolian.

"He has a mate whom he worships. Seize her and he will pay any price
to protect her from harm."

"Not the price the Morgor has asked," I said to Multis Par, "and if
she is brought here it will be the seal upon your death warrant."

"Enough of this," snapped Bandolian. "Take them all away."

"Shall I destroy the one called John Carter?" asked the officer who
commanded the detail that had brought us to the audience chamber.

"Not immediately," replied Bandolian.

"He struck a Morgor," said Haglion; "one of my officers."

"He shall die for that, too," said Bandolian.

"That will be twice," I said.

"Take it away!" snapped Bandolian.

As we were led away, Vaja and U Dan gazed longingly at one another.

FiveI WOULD BE A TRAITORZAN DAR, THE SAVATOR, was surprised to see us returned to the cell
in so short a time. "In fact," he said, "I did not expect ever to see you
again. How did it happen?"

I explained briefly what had occurred in the audience chamber, adding,
"I have been returned to the cell to await death."

"He had a reason, you may rest assured. He is probably trying to break
down your morale by letting you see the girl you love, in the belief that
you will influence John Carter to accede to his demands. John Carter lives
only because Bandolian hopes to eventually break down his resistance."

Time dragged heavily in that cell beneath the Morgor city. There was
no means for determining the passage of time. For that matter, there would
have been none had we been above ground, for there are no nights upon Jupiter.
It is always day. The sun, four hundred eighty-three million miles away,
would shed but little light upon the planet even were it exposed to the
full light of the star that is the center of our solar system; but that
little light is obscured by the dense cloud envelope which surrounds this
distant world. What little filters through is negated by the gigantic volcanic
torches which bathe the entire planet in perpetual daylight. Although Jupiter
rotates upon its axis in less than ten hours, its day is for eternity.

U Dan and I learned much concerning conditions on the planet from Zan
Dar. He told us of the vast warm seas which seethed in constant tidal agitation
resulting from the constantly changing positions of the four larger moons
which revolve about Jupiter in forty-two hours, eighty-five hours, one
hundred seventy-two hours, and four hundred hours respectively while the
planet spins upon its axis, making a complete revolution in nine hours
and fifty-five minutes. He told us of vast continents and enormous islands;
and I could well imagine that such existed, as a rough estimate indicated
that the area of the planet exceeded twenty-three billion square miles.

As the axis of Jupiter is nearly perpendicular to the plane of its motion,
having an inclination of only about ??30, there could be no great variety
of seasons; so over this enormous area there existed an equable climate,
warm and humid, perpetually lighted and heated by the innumerable volcanoes
which pit the surface of the planet. And here was I, an adventurer who
had explored two worlds, cooped up in a subterranean cell upon the most
amazing and wonderful planet of our entire solar system. It was maddening.

Zan Dar told us that the continent upon which we were was the largest.
It was the ancestral home of the Morgors, from which they had, over a great
period of time, sallied forth to conquer the remainder of the world. The
conquered countries, each of which was ruled by what might be called a
Morgor Governor-General, paid tribute to the Morgors in manufactured goods,
foodstuffs, and slaves. There were still a few areas, small and considered
of little value by the Morgors, which retained their liberty and their
own governments. From such an area came Zan Dar -- a remote island called
Zanor.

"It is a land of tremendous mountains, thickly forested with trees of
great size and height," he said. "Because of our mountains and our forests,
it is an easy land to defend against an air borne enemy."

When he told me the height of some of the lofty peaks of Zanor, it was
with difficulty that I could believe him: to a height of twenty miles above
sea level rose the majestic king of Zanor's mountains.

"The Morgors have sent many an expedition against us," said Zan Dar.
"They get a foothold in some little valley; and there, above them and surrounding
them in mountain fastnesses that are familiar to us and unknown to them,
we have had them at our mercy, picking them off literally one by one until
they are so reduced in numbers that they dare remain no longer. They kill
many of us, too; and they take prisoners. I was taken thus in one of their
invasions. If they brought enough ships and enough men, I suppose they
could conquer us; but our land is scarcely worth the effort, and I think
they prefer to leave us as we are to give their recruits practice in actual
warfare."

I don't know how long we had been confined when Multis Par was brought
to our cell by an officer and a detachment of warriors. He came to exhort
me to cooperate with Bandolian.

"The invasion and conquest of Barsoom are inevitable," he said. "By
assisting Bandolian you can mitigate the horror of it for the inhabitants
of Barsoom.

You will thus be serving our world far better than by stupidly and stubbornly
refusing to meet Bandolian half way."

"You are wasting your time," I told him.

"But our own lives depend upon it," he cried. "You and U Dan, Vaja and
I shall die if you refuse. Bandolian's patience is almost worn out now."
He looked pleadingly at U Dan.

"We could not die in a better cause," said U Dan, much to my surprise.
"I shall be glad to die in atonement for the wrong that I did John Carter."

"You are two fools!" exclaimed Multis Par, angrily.

"At least we are not traitors," I reminded him.

"You will die, John Carter," he growled; "but before you die, you shall
see your mate in the clutches of Bandolian. She has been sent for. Now,
if you change your mind, send word by one of those who bring your meals."

I sprang forward and knocked the creature down. I should have killed
him then had not the Morgors dragged him from the cell.

So they had sent for Dejah Thoris -- and I was helpless. They would
get her. I knew how they would get her -- by assuring her that only through
her co-operation could my immediate death be averted. I wondered if they
would win. Would I, in the final test, sacrifice my beloved princess or
my adopted country? Frankly, I did not know; but I had the example of U
Dan to guide me. He had placed patriotism above love. Would I?

Time dragged on in this gloomy cell where there was no time. We three
plotted innumerable futile plans of escape. We improvised games to help
mitigate the monotony of our dull existence. More profitably, however,
U Dan and I learned much from Zan Dar concerning this great planet. And
Zan Dar learned much of what lay beyond the eternal cloud envelope which
hides from the view of the inhabitants of Jupiter the sun, the other planets,
the stars, and even their own moons. All that Zan Dar knew of them was
the little he had been able to glean from remarks dropped by Morgors of
what had been seen from their interplanetary ships. Their knowledge of
astronomy was only slightly less than their interest in the subject, which
was practically non-existent. War, conquest, and bloodshed were their sole
interests in life.

At last there came a break in the deadly monotony of our lives: a new
prisoner was thrown into the cell with us. And he was a Morgor! The situation
was embarrassing. Had our numbers been reversed, had there been three Morgors
and one of us, there would have been no doubt as to the treatment that
one would have received. He would have been ostracized, imposed upon, and
very possibly abused. The Morgor expected this fate. He went into a far
corner of the cell and awaited what he had every reason to expect. U Dan,
Zan Dar, and I discussed the situation in whispers. That must have been
a trying time for the Morgor. We three finally decided to treat the creature
simply as a fellow prisoner until such time as his own conduct should be
our eventual guide. Zan Dar was the first to break the ice. In a friendly
manner he asked what mischance had brought the fellow to this pass.

"I killed one who had an influential relative in the palace of Bandolian,"
he replied, and as he spoke he came over closer to us. "For that I shall
die, probably in the graduating exercises of the next class. We shall doubtless
all die together," he added with a hollow laugh. He paused. "Unless we
escape," he concluded.

"Then we shall die," said Zan Dar.

"Perhaps," said the Morgor.

"One does not escape from the prisons of the Morgors," said Zan Dar.

I was interested in that one word "perhaps." It seemed to me fraught
with intentional meaning. I determined to cultivate this animated skeleton.
It could do no harm and might lead to good. I told him my name and the
names of my companions; then I asked his.

"Vorion," he replied; "but I need no introduction to you, John Carter.
We have met before. Don't you recognize me?" I had to admit that I did
not. Vorion laughed. I slapped your face and you knocked me across the
ship. It was a noble blow. For a long time they thought that I was dead."

"Oh," I said, "you were one of my instructors. It may please you to
know that I am going to die for that blow."

"Perhaps not," said Vorion. There was that "perhaps" again. What did
the fellow mean?

Much to our surprise, Vorion proved not at all a bad companion. Toward
Bandolian and the powerful forces that had condemned him to death and thrown
him into prison he was extremely bitter. I learned from him that the apparent
veneration and loyalty accorded Bandolian by his people was wholly a matter
of disciplined regimentation. At heart, Vorion loathed the man as a monster
of cruelty and tyranny. "Fear and generations of training hold our apparent
loyalty," he said.

After he had been with us for some time, he said to me, "You three have
been very decent to me. You could have made my life miserable here; and
I could not have blamed you had you done so, for you must hate us Morgors."

"We are all in the same boat," I said. "We could gain nothing by fighting
among ourselves. If we work together -- perhaps--" I used his own perhaps.

Vorion nodded. "I have been thinking that we might work together," he
said.

"To what end?" I asked.

"Escape,"

"Is that possible?"

"Perhaps."

U Dan and Zan Dar were eager listeners. Vorion turned to the latter.
"If we should escape he said, you three have a country to which you might
go with every assurance of finding asylum, while I could expect only death
in any country upon the face of Eurobus. If you could promise me safety
in your country--" He paused, evidently awaiting Zan Dar's reaction.

"I could only promise to do my best for you," said Zan Dar; "but I am
confident that if you were the means of my liberation and return to Zanor,
you would be permitted to remain there in safety."

Our plotting was interrupted by the arrival of a detail of warriors.
The officer in command singled me out and ordered me from the cell. If
I were to be separated from my companions, I saw the fabric of my dream
of escape dissolve before my eyes.

They led me from the building and across the plaza to the palace of
Bandolian, and after some delay I found myself again in the audience chamber.
From behind his desk, the hollow eyes of the tyrant stared at me from their
grinning skull. "I am giving you your last chance," said Bandolian; then
he turned to one of his officers. "Bring in the other," he said. There
was a short wait, and then a door at my right opened and a guard of warriors
brought in the "other." It was Dejah Thoris! My incomparable Dejah Thoris!

What a lovely creature she was as she crossed the floor surrounded by
hideous Morgors. What majestic dignity, what fearlessness distinguished
her carriage and her mien! That such as she should be sacrificed even for
a world! They halted her scarce two paces from me. She gave me a brave
smile, and whispered, "Courage! I know now why I am here. Do not weaken.
Better death than dishonor."

"What is she saying?" demanded Bandolian.I thought quickly. I knew that
the chances were that not one of them there understood the language of
Barsoom, In their stupid arrogance they would not deign to master the tongue
of a lower order.

"She but pleads with me to save her," I said. I saw Dejah Thoris smile.
Evidently they had taught her the language of the Morgors on the long voyage
from Mars.

"And you will be wise to do so," said Bandolian, "otherwise she will
be given to Multis Par and afterward tortured and mutilated many times
before she is permitted to die."

I shuddered in contemplation of such a fate for my princess, and in
that moment I weakened once again. "If I aid you, will she be returned
unharmed to Helium?" I asked.

"Both of you will -- after I have conquered Garobus," replied Bandolian.

"No! No!" whispered Dejah Thoris. "I should rather die than return to
Helium with a traitor. No, John Carter, you could never be that even to
save my life."

"But the torture! The mutilation! I would be a traitor a thousand times
over to save you from that, and I can promise you that no odium would be
attached to you: I should never return to Barsoom."

I understood and I was relieved. "Very well," I said. "If we are to
die for Barsoom, it is no more than thousands of her brave warriors have
done in the past; but we are not dead yet. Remember that, my princess;
and do not use that long, thin blade upon yourself until hope is absolutely
dead."

"While you live, hope will live," she said.

"Come, come," said Bandolian. "I have listened long enough to your silly
jabbering. Do you accept my proposition?"

"I am considering it," I said, "but I must have a few more words with
my mate."

"Let them be few," snapped the Morgor.

I turned to Dejah Thoris. "Where are you imprisoned?" I asked.

"On the top floor of a tower at the rear of this building at the corner
nearest the great volcano. There is another Barsoomian with me -- a girl
from Zor. Her name is Vaja."

Bandolian was becoming impatient. He drummed nervously on his desk with
his knuckles and snapped his grinning jaws together like castanets. "Enough
of this!" he growled. "What is your decision?"

"The matter is one of vast importance to me," I replied. I cannot decide
it in a moment. Return me to my cell so that I may think it over and discuss
it with U Dan, who also has much at stake."

"Take it back to its cell," ordered Bandolian; and then, to me: "You
shall have time, but not much. My patience is exhausted."

SixESCAPE!I HAD NO PLAN. I was practically without hope, yet I had gained at
least a brief reprieve for Dejah Thoris. Perhaps a means of escape might
offer itself. Upon such unsubstantial fare I fed the shred of hope to which
I clung.

My cell mates were both surprised and relieved when I was returned to
them. I told them briefly of what had occurred in the audience chamber
of Bandolian. U Dan showed real grief when he learned that Dejah Thoris
was in the clutches of the Morgors, and cursed himself for the part he
had taken in bringing her and me to a situation in which we faced the alternatives
of death or dishonor.

"Vain regrets never got anyone anywhere," I said. "They won't get us
out of this cell. They won't get Dejah Thoris and Vaja out of Bandolian's
tower. Forget them. We have other things to think about." I turned to Vorion.
"You have spoken of the possibility of escape. Explain yourself."

He was not accustomed to being spoken to thus peremptorially by one
of the lower orders, as the Morgors considered us; but he laughed, taking
it in good part.The Morgors cannot smile. From birth to death they wear
their death's head grin -- frozen, unchangeable.

"There is just a chance," he said. "It is just barely a chance. Slender
would be an optimistic description of it, but if it fails we shall be no
worse off than we are now."

"Tell us what it is," I said.

"I can pick the lock of our cell door," he explained. "If luck is with
us, we can escape from this building. I know a way that is little used,
for I was for long one of the prison guard."

"What chance would we have once we were in the streets of the city?"
demanded U Dan. "We three, at least, would be picked up immediately."

"Not necessarily," said Vorion. "There are many slaves on the avenues
who look exactly like Zan Dar. Of course, the color of the skin of you
men from Garobus might attract attention; but that is a chance we shall
have to take."

"And after we are in the streets?" asked Zan Dar. "What then?"

"I shall pretend that I am in charge of you. I shall treat you as slaves
are so often treated that it will arouse no comment nor attract any undue
attention. I shall have to be rough with you, but you will understand.
I shall herd you to a field where there are many ships. There I shall tell
the guard that I have orders to bring you to clean a certain ship. In this
field are only the private ships of the rich and powerful among us, and
I well know a certain ship that belongs to one who seldom uses it. If we
can reach this ship and board it, nothing can prevent us from escaping.
In an hour from now, we shall be on our way to Zanor -- if all goes well."

"And if we can take Vaja and Dejah Thoris with us," I added.

"I had forgotten them," said Vorion. "You would risk your lives for
two females?"

"Certainly," said U Dan.

Vorion shrugged. "You are strange creatures," he said.

"We Morgors would not risk a little finger for a score of them. The
only reason that we tolerate them at all is that they are needed to replenish
the supply of warriors. To attempt to rescue two of yours may easily end
in disaster for us all."

"However, we shall make the attempt," I said. "Are you with us, Zan
Dar?" I asked the Savator.

"To the end," he said, "whatever it may be."

Again Vorion shrugged. "As you will," he said, but not with much enthusiasm;
then he set to work on the lock, and in a very short time the door swung
open and we stepped out into the corridor. Vorion closed the door and relocked
it.

"This is going to give them food for speculation," he remarked.

He led us along the corridor in the opposite direction from that in
which we had been brought to it and from which all those had come who had
approached our cell since our incarceration. The corridor became dark and
dusty the farther we traversed it. Evidently it was little used. At its
very end was a door, the lock to which Vorion quickly picked; and a moment
later we stepped out into a narrow alleyway.

So simple had been our escape up to now that I immediately apprehended
the worst: such luck could not last. Even the alley which we had entered
was deserted: no one had seen us emerge from the prison. But when we reached
the end of the alley and turned into a broad avenue, the situation was
very different. Here were many people -- Morgors upon the sidewalks, slaves
in the gutters, strange beasts of burden carrying their loads of passengers
upon the pavement.

Now, Vorion began to berate and cuff us as we walked in the gutter and
he upon the sidewalk. He directed us away from the central plaza and finally
into less frequented avenues, yet we still passed too many Morgors to suit
me. At any minute one of them might notice the unusual coloration of U
Dan's skin and mine. I glanced at Zan Dar to note if the difference between
his coloration and ours was at all startling, and I got a shock. Zan Dar's
skin had been blue. Now it was purple! It took me a moment to realize that
the change was due to the rosy light of the volcano's flames turning Zan
Dar's natural blue to purple.We had covered quite a little distance in
safety, when a Morgor, passing, eyed us suspiciously. He let us go by him;
then he wheeled and called to Vorion. "Who are those two?" he demanded.
"They are not Savators."

"They have been ill," said Vorion, "and their color has changed." I
was surprised that the fellow could think so quickly.

"Well, who are you?" asked the fellow, "and what are you doing in charge
of slaves while unarmed?"

Vorion looked down at his sides in simulated surprise. "Why, I must
have forgotten them," he said.

"I think that you are lying to me," said the fellow. "Come along with
me, all of you."

Here seemed an end of our hopes of escape. I glanced up and down the
street. It appeared to be a quiet, residential avenue. There was no one
near us. Several small ships rested at the curb in front of drear, brown
domiciles. That was all. No eyes were upon us. I stepped close to the fellow
who had thus rashly presented himself as an obstacle in the way of Dejah
Thoris' rescue. I struck him once. I struck him with all my strength. He
dropped like a log.

"You have killed him," exclaimed Vorion. "He was one of Bandolian's
most trusted officers. If we are caught now, we shall be tortured to death."

"We need not be caught," I said. "Let's take one of these ships standing
at the curb. Why take the time and the risk to go farther?"

Vorion shook his head. "They wouldn't do," he said. "They are only for
intramural use. They are low altitude ships that would never get over even
a relatively small mountain range; but more important still, they cannot
be rendered invisible. We shall have to go on to the field as we have planned."

"To avoid another such encounter as we have just experienced," I said,
"we had better take one of these ships at least to the vicinity of the
field."

"We shall be no worse off adding theft to murder," said Zan Dar.

Vorion agreed, and a moment later we were all in a small ship and sailing
along a few yards above the avenue. Keenly interested, I carefully noted
everything that Vorion did in starting the motor and controlling the craft.
It was necessary for me to ask only a few questions in order to have an
excellent grasp of the handling of the little ship, so familiar was I with
the air ships of two other worlds. Perhaps I should never have the opportunity
to operate one of these, but it could do no harm to know how.

We quitted the flier a short distance from the field and continued on
foot. As Vorion had predicted, a guard halted us and questioned him. For
a moment everything hung in the balance. The guard appeared skeptical,
and the reason for his skepticism was largely that which had motivated
the officer I had killed to question the regularity of Vorion's asserted
mission -- the fact that Vorion was unarmed. The guard told us to wait
while he summoned an officer. That would have been fatal. I felt that I
might have to kill this man, too; but I did not see how I could do it without
being observed, as there were many Morgors upon the field, though none
in our immediate vicinity.

Vorion saved the day. "Come! Come!" he exclaimed in a tone of exasperation.
I can't wait here all day while you send for an officer. I am in a hurry.
Let me take these slaves on and start them to work. The officer can come
to the ship and question me as well as he can question me here."

The guard agreed that there was something in this; and, after ascertaining
the name and location of the ship which we were supposed to clean, he permitted
us to proceed. I breathed an inward sigh of relief. After we had left him,
Vorion said that he had given him the name and location of a different
ship than that which we were planning to steal. Vorion was no fool.

The ship that Vorion had selected, was a slim craft which appeared to
have been designed for speed. We lost no time boarding her; and once again
I watched every move that Vorion made, questioning him concerning everything
that was not entirely clear to me. Although I had spent some eighteen days
aboard one of these Morgorian ships, I had learned nothing relative to
their control, as I had never been allowed in the control room nor permitted
to ask questions.

First, Vorion magnetized the hull and sprayed it with the fine sands
of invisibility; then he started the motor and nosed up gently. I had explained
my plan to him, and once he had gained a little altitude he headed for
the palace of Bandolian. Through a tiny lens set in the bow of this ship
the view ahead was reflected upon a ground glass plate, just as an image
is projected upon the finder of a camera. There were several of these lenses,
and through one of them I presently saw the square tower at the rear of
the palace, the tower in which Dejah Thoris and Vaja were confined.

"When I bring the ship up to the window," said Vorion, "you will have
to work fast, as the moment that we open the door in the ship's hull, part
of the interior of the ship will be visible. Some one in the palace or
upon the ground may notice it, and instantly we shall be surrounded by
guard and patrol ships."

"I shall work fast," I said.

I must admit that I was more excited than usual as Vorion brought the
craft alongside the tower window, which we had seen was wide open and unbarred.
U Dan and Zan Dar stood by to open the door so that I could leap through
the window and then to close it immediately after I had come aboard with
the two girls. I could no longer see the window now that the craft was
broadside to it; but at a word from Vorion, U Dan and Zan Dar slid the
door back. The open window was before me, and I leaped through it into
the interior of the tower room.

Fortunately for me, fortunately for Dejah Thoris, and fortunately for
Vaja, it was the right room. The two girls were there, but they were not
alone. A man held Dejah Thoris in his arms, his lips searching for hers.
Vaja was striking him futilely on the back, and Dejah Thoris was trying
to push his face from hers.

I seized the man by the neck and hurled him across the room; then I
pointed to the window and the ship beyond and told the girls to get aboard
as fast as they could. They needed no second invitation. As they ran across
the room toward the window, the man rose and faced me. It was Multis Par!
Recognizing me, he went almost white; then he whipped out his sword and
simultaneously commenced to shout for the guard.

Seeing that I was unarmed, he came for me. I could not turn and run
for the window: had I, he could have run me through long before I could
have reached it; so I did the next best thing. I charged straight for him.
This apparently suicidal act of mine evidently confused him, for he fell
back. But when I was close to him, he lunged for me. I parried the thrust
with my forearm. I was inside his point now, and an instant later my fingers
closed upon his throat. Like a fool, he dropped his sword then and attempted
to claw my fingers loose with his two hands. He could have shortened his
hold on it and run me through the heart, but I had had to take that chance.

I would have finished him off in a moment had not the door of the room
been then thrown open to admit a dozen Morgor warriors. I was stunned!
After everything had worked so well, to have this happen! Were all our
plans to be thus thwarted?

No, not all.

I shouted to U Dan: "Close the door and take off! It is a command!"

U Dan hesitated. Dejah Thoris stood at his side with one hand outstretched
toward me and an indescribable expression of anguish on her face. She took
a step forward as though to leap from the ship back into the room. U Dan
quickly barred her way, and then the ship started to move away. Slowly
the door slid closed, and once again the craft was entirely invisible.

All this transpired in but a few seconds while I still clung to Multis
Par's throat. His tongue protruded and his eyes stared glassily. In a moment
more he would have been dead; then the Morgor warriors were upon me, and
I was dragged from my prey.

My captors handled me rather roughly and, perhaps, not without reason,
for I had knocked three of them unconscious before they overpowered me.
Had I but had a sword! What I should have done to them then! But though
I was battered and bruised as they hustled me down from the tower, I was
smiling; for I was happy. Dejah Thoris had been snatched from the clutches
of the skeleton men and was, temporarily at least, safe. I had good cause
for rejoicing.

I was taken to a small, unlighted cell beneath the tower; and here I
was manacled and chained to the wall. A heavy door was slammed shut as
my captors left me, and I heard a key turn in a massive lock.

Alone, in utter darkness, I awaited my fate.

"
SevenPHO LARIN SOLITARY CONFINEMENT, unrelieved by even a suggestion of light,
one is thrown entirely upon the resources of one's thoughts for mitigation
of absolute boredom -- such boredom as sometimes leads to insanity for
those of weak wills and feeble nerves. But my thoughts were pleasant thoughts.
I envisaged Dejah Thoris safely bound for a friendly country in an invisible
ship which would be safe from capture, and I felt that three of those who
accompanied her would be definitely friendly and that one of them, U Dan,
might be expected to lay down his life to protect her were that ever necessary.
As to Vorion, I could not even guess what his attitude toward her would
be.My own situation gave me little concern. I will admit that it looked
rather hopeless, but I had been in tight places before and yet managed
to survive and escape. I still lived, and while life is in me I never give
up hope. I am a confirmed optimist, which, I think, gives me an attitude
of mind that more often than not commands what we commonly term the breaks
of life.

Fortunately, I was not long confined in that dark cell. I slept once,
for how long I do not know; and I was very hungry when a detail of warriors
came to take me away, hungry and thirsty, for they had given me neither
food nor water while I had been confined.I was not taken before Bandolian
this time, but to one of his officers -- a huge skeleton that continually
opened and closed its jaws with a snapping and grinding sound. The creature
was Death incarnate. From the way he questioned me, I concluded that he
must be the lord high inquisitor. In silence, he eyed me from those seemingly
hollow sockets for a full minute before he spoke; then he bellowed at me.

"Thing," he shouted, "for even a small part of what you have done you
deserve death -- death after torture."

"You don't have to shout at me," I said; "I am not deaf."

That enraged him, and he pounded upon his desk. "For impudence and disrespect
it will go harder with you."

"I cannot show respect when I do not feel respect," I told him. "I respect
only those who command my respect. I surely could not respect a bag of
bones with an evil disposition."

I do not know why I deliberately tried to infuriate him. Perhaps it
is just a weakness of mine to enjoy baiting enemies whom I think contemptible.
It is, I admit, a habit fraught with danger; and, perhaps, a stupid habit;
but I have found that it sometimes so disconcerts an enemy as to give me
a certain advantage. In this instance I was at least successful in part:
the creature was so furious that for some time it remained speechless;
then it leaped to its feet with drawn sword.

My situation was far from enviable. I was unarmed, and the creature
facing me was in an uncontrollable rage. In addition to all this, there
were four or five other Morgors in the room, two of whom were holding my
arms -- one on either side. I was as helpless as a sheep in an abattoir.
But as my would-be executioner came around the end of his desk to spit
me on his blade, another Morgor entered the room.

The newcomer took in the situation at a glance, and shouted, "Stop,
Gorgum!" The thing coming for me hesitated a moment; then he dropped his
point."The creature deserves death," Gorgum said, sullenly. "It defied
and insulted me -- me, an officer of the Great Bandolian!"

"Vengeance belongs to Bandolian," said the other, "and he has different
plans for this insolent worm. What has your questioning developed?"

"He has been so busy screaming at me that he had had no time to question
me," I said.

"Silence, low one!" snapped the newcomer. "I can well understand," he
said to Gorgum, "that your patience must have been sorely tried; but we
must respect the wishes of the Great Bandolian. Proceed with the investigation."

Gorgum returned his sword to its scabbard and reseated himself at his
desk. "What is your name?" he demanded.

"John Carter, Prince of Helium," I replied. A scribe at Gorgum's side
scribbled in a large book. I supposed that he was recording the question
and the answer. He kept this up during the entire interview.

"How did you and the other conspirators escape from the cell in which
you were confined?" Gorgum asked,

"Through the doorway," I replied.

"That is impossible. The door was locked when you were placed in the
cell. It was locked at the time your absence was discovered."

"If you know so much, why bother to question me?"

Gorgum's jaws snapped and ground more viciously than ever. "You see,
Horur," he said angrily, turning to the other officer, "the insolence of
the creature."

"Answer the noble Gorgum's question," Horur snapped at me. "How did
you pass through a locked door?"

"It was not locked."

"It was locked," shouted Gorgum.

I shrugged. "What is the use?" I asked. "It is a waste of time to answer
the questions of one who knows more about the subject than I, notwithstanding
the fact that he was not there."

"Tell me, then, in your own words how you escaped from the cell," said
Horur in a less irritating tone of voice.

"We picked the lock."

"That would have been impossible," bellowed Gorgum.

"Then we are still in the cell," I said. "Perhaps you had better go
and look."

"We are getting nowhere," snapped Horur.

"Rapidly," I agreed.

"I shall question the prisoner," said Horur. "We concede that you did
escape from the cell."

"Rather shrewd of you."

He ignored the comment. "I cannot see that the means you adopted are
of great importance. What we really wish to know is where your accomplices
and the two female prisoners are now. Multis Par says that they escaped
in a ship -- probably one of our own which was stolen from a flying field."

"I do not know where they are."

"Do you know where they planned to go?"

"If I did, I would not tell you."

"I command you to answer me, on pain of death."

I laughed at the creature. "You intend to kill me any way; so your threat
finds me indifferent."

Horur kept his temper much better than had Gorgum, but I could see that
he was annoyed. "You could preserve your life if you were more co-operative,"
he said.

"Great Bandolian asks but little of you. Tell us where your accomplices
intended going and promise to aid Great Bandolian in his conquest of Helium,
and your life will be spared."

"No," I said.

"Wait," urged Horur. "Bandolian will go even further. Following our
conquest of Helium, he will permit you and your mate to return to that
country and he will give you a high office in the new government he intends
to establish there. If you refuse, you shall be destroyed; your mate will
be hunted down and, I promise you, she will be found. Her fate will be
infinitely worse than death. You had better think it over."

"I do not need to think over such a proposition. I can give you a final
answer on both counts -- my irrevocable answer. It is -- never!"

If Horur had had a lip, he would doubtless have bitten it. He looked
at me for a long minute; then he said, "Fool!" after which he turned to
Gorgum. Have it placed with those who are being held for the next class;"
then he left the room.

I was now taken to a building located at some distance from those in
which I had previously been incarcerated, and placed in a large cell with
some twenty other prisoners, all of whom were Savators.

"What have we here?" demanded one of my fellow prisoners after my escort
had left and locked the door. "A man with a red skin! He is no Savator.
What are you, fellow?"

I did not like the looks of him, nor his tone of voice. I was not seeking
trouble with those with whom I was to be imprisoned and with whom I was
probably destined to die; so I walked away from the fellow and sat down
on a bench in another part of the chamber, which was quite large. But the
fool followed me and stood in front of me in a truculent attitude.

"I asked you what you were," he said, threateningly; "and when Pho Lar
asks you a question, see that you answer it -- and quickly. I am top man
here." He looked around at the others. "That's right, isn't it?" he demanded
of them.There were some sullen, affirmative grunts. I could see at once
that the fellow was unpopular. He appeared a man of considerable muscular
development; and his reception of me, a newcomer among them, testified
to the fact that he was a bully. It was evident that he had the other prisoners
cowed.

"You seem to be looking for trouble, Lo Phar," I said; "but I am not.
I am already in enough trouble."

"My name is Pho Lar, fellow," he barked.

"What difference does it make? You would stink by any name." The other
prisoners immediately took interested notice. Some of them grinned.

"I see that I shall have to put you in your place," said Pho Lar, advancing
toward me angrily.

"I do not want any trouble with you," I said. "It is bad enough to be
imprisoned, without quarrelling with fellow prisoners."

"You are evidently a coward," said Pho Lar; "so, if you will get down
on your knees and ask my pardon, I shall not harm you."

I had to laugh at that, which made the fellow furious; yet he hesitated
to attack me. I realized then that he was a typical bully -- yellow at
heart. However, to save his face, he would probably attack me if he could
not bluff me. "Don't make me angry," he said. "When I am angry I do not
know my own strength.

I might kill you."

"I wonder if this would make you angry," I said, and slapped him across
the cheek with my open palm. I slapped him so hard that he nearly fell
down. I could have slapped him harder. This, staggered him more than physically.
The blood rushed to his blue face until it turned purple. He was in a spot.
He had started something; and if he were to hold his self-appointed position
as top man, as he had described himself, he would have to finish it. The
other prisoners had now all arisen and formed a half circle about us. They
looked alternately at Pho Lar and at me in eager anticipation.

Pho Lar had to do something about that slap in the face. He rushed at
me and struck out clumsily. As I warded off his blows, I realized that
he was a very powerful man; but he lacked science, and I was sure that
he lacked guts. I determined to teach him a lesson that he would not soon
forget. I could have landed a blow in the first few seconds of our encounter
that would have put him to sleep, but I preferred to play with him.

I countered merely with another slap in the face. He came back with
a haymaker that I ducked; then I slapped him again -- a little harder this
time."Good work!" exclaimed one of the prisoners."Go to it, red man!" cried
another.

"Kill him!" shouted a third.

Pho Lar tried to clinch; but I caught one of his wrists, wheeled around,
bent over, and threw him over my shoulder. He lit heavily on the lava flooring.
He lay there for a moment, and as he scrambled to his feet I put a headlock
on him and threw him again. This time he did not get up; so I picked him
up and hit him on the chin. He went down for a long count. I was through
with him, and went and sat down.

The prisoners gathered around me. I could see that they were pleased
with the outcome of the fight. "Pho Lar's had this coming to him for a
long time," said one.

"He sure got it at last!"

"Who are you, anyway?"

"My name is John Carter. I am from Garobus."

"I have heard of you," said one. I think we all have. The Morgors are
furious at you because you tricked them so easily. I suppose they have
sent you here to die with us. My name is Han Du." He held out a hand to
me. It was the first time that I had seen this friendly gesture since leaving
the earth. The Martians place a hand upon your shoulder. I took his hand.

"I am glad to know you, Han Du," I said. "If there are many more here
like Pho Lar, I shall probably need a friend."

"There are no more like him," said Han Du, "and he is finished."

"You intimated that you are all doomed to die," I said. "Do you know
when or how?"

"When the next class graduates, we shall be pitted against twice our
number of Morgors. It will be soon, now."

EightIN THE ARENAPHO LAR WAS UNCONSCIOUS FOR A LONG TIME. For a while, I thought that
I might have killed him; but finally he opened his eyes and looked about.
Then he sat up, felt of his head, and rubbed his jaw. When his eyes found
me, he dropped them to the floor. Slowly and painfully he got to his feet
and started for the far side of the room. Four or five of the prisoners
immediately surrounded him.

"Who's top man now?" demanded one of them and slapped his face. Two
more struck him. They were pushing him around and buffeting him when I
walked among them and pushed them away.

"Leave him alone," I said. "He has had enough punishment for a while.
When he has recovered, if one of you wishes to take him on, that will be
all right; but you can't gang up on him."

The biggest of them turned and faced me. "What have you got to say about
it?" he demanded.

"This," I replied, and knocked him down.

He sat up and looked at me. "I was just asking," he said, and grinned
a sickly grin; then everybody laughed and the tension was over. After this,
we got along famously -- all of us, even Pho Lar; and I found them all
rather decent men. Long imprisonment and the knowledge that they were facing
death had frayed their nerves; but what had followed my advent had cleared
the air, much as a violent electrical storm does. After that there was
a lot of laughing and talking.

I inquired if any of them were from Zan Dar's country -- Zanor; but
none of them was. Several of them knew where it was, and one scratched
a rough map of part of Jupiter on the wall of our cell to show me where
Zanor was located. "But much good it will do you to know," he said.

"One never can tell," I replied.

They had told me what I was to expect at the graduating exercises, and
I gave the subject considerable thought. I did not purpose attending a
Morgor commencement in the role of a willing sacrifice."How many of you
men are expert swordsmen?" I asked.

About half of them claimed to be, but it is a failing of fighting men
to boast of their prowess. Not of all fighting men, but of many -- usually
those with the least to boast of. I wished that I had some means of determining
which were really good.

"Of course we can't get hold of any swords," I said, "but if we had
some sticks about the length of swords, we could soon find out who were
the best swordsmen among us.

"What good would that do us?" asked one.

"We could give those Morgors a run for their money," I said, "and make
them pay for their own graduation."

"The slave who brings our food is from my country," said Han Du. "I
think he might smuggle a couple of sticks in to us. He is a good fellow.
I'll ask him when he comes.

Pho Lar had said nothing about his swordsmanship; so, as he had proved
himself a great boaster, I felt that he was not a swordsman at all. I was
sorry, as he was by far the most powerful of all the Savator prisoners;
and he was tall, too. With a little skill, he should have proved a most
formidable swordsman. Han Du never boasted about anything; but he said
that in his country, the men were much given to sword play; so I was counting
on him.

Finally, Han Du's compatriot smuggled in a couple of wooden rods about
the length of a long sword; and I went to work to ascertain how my fellow
prisoners stacked up as swordsmen. Most of them were good; a few were excellent;
Han Du was magnificent; and, much to everyone's surprise, Pho Lar was superb.
He gave me one of the most strenuous workouts I have ever had before I
could touch him.

It must have taken me nearly an hour to disarm him. He was one of the
greatest swordsmen I had ever faced.

Since our altercation upon my induction to their company, Pho Lar had
kept much to himself. He seldom spoke, and I thought he might be brooding
and planning on revenge. I had to find out just where he stood, as I could
not take any chances on treachery or even halfhearted co-operation.

I took Pho Lar aside after our passage with the wooden sticks. I put
my cards squarely on the table. "My plan," I said, "requires as many good
swordsmen as I can get. You are one of the finest I have ever met, but
you may think that you have reason to dislike me and therefore be unwilling
to give me your full support. I cannot use any man who will not follow
me and obey me even to death.

How about it?"

I will follow wherever you lead," he said. "Here is my hand on it --
if you will take my hand in friendship."

"I am glad to do it."

As we grasped hands, he said, "If I had known a man like you years ago,
I should not have been the fool that I have been. You may count on me to
my last drop of blood, and before you and I die we shall have shown the
Morgors something that they will never forget. They think that they are
great swordsmen, but after they have seen you in action they will have
their doubts. I can scarcely wait for the time."

I was impressed by Pho Lar's protestations. I felt that he was sincere,
but I could not disabuse my mind of my first impression of him -- that
he was at heart an arrant coward. But perhaps, facing death, he would fight
as a cornered rat fights. If he did, and didn't lose his head, he would
wreak havoc on the Morgors.

There were twenty of us in that cell. No longer did time drag heavily.
It passed quickly in practice with our two wooden rods. Han Du, Pho Lar,
and I, acting as instructors, taught the others what tricks of swordsmanship
we knew until we were twenty excellent swordsmen. Several were outstanding.

We discussed several plans of action. We knew that, if custom prevailed,
we should be pitted against forty young Morgor cadets striving to win to
the warrior caste. We decided to fight in pairs, each of our ten best swordsmen
being paired with one of the ten less proficient; but this pairing was
to follow an initial charge by the first ten, with our team mates close
behind us. We hoped thus to eliminate many of the Morgors in the first
few moments of the encounter, thus greatly reducing the odds against us.
Perhaps we of the first ten, overestimated our prowess. Only time would
tell.

There was some nervousness among the prisoners, due, I think, to the
uncertainty as to when we should be called upon to face those unequal odds.
Each knew that some of us would die. If any survived, we had only rumor
to substantiate our hope that they would be set free; and no man there
trusted the Morgors, Every footfall in the corridor brought silence to
the cell, with every eye fixed upon the door.

At long last our anxiety was relieved: a full company of warriors came
to escort us to the field where we were to fight. I glanced quickly around
at the prisoners' faces. Many were smiling and there were sighs of relief.
I felt greatly encouraged.

We were taken to a rectangular field with tiers of seats on each of
its four sides. The stands were crowded. Thousands of eyes stared from
the hollow sockets of grinning skulls. It might have been a field day in
Hell. There was no sound. There were no bands. There were no flying flags
-- no color. We were given swords and herded together at one end of the
field. An official gave us our instructions.

"When the cadets come on the field at the far end, you will advance
and engage them." That was all.

"And what of those of us who survive?" I asked.

"None of you will survive, creature," he replied.

"We understand that those who survived would be given their freedom,"
I insisted.

"None of you will survive," he repeated.

"Would you like to place a little bet on that?"

"None of your impudence, creature!" The fellow was getting angry.

"But suppose one of us should survive?" I demanded,

"In that case his life would be spared and he would be allowed to continue
in slavery, but none has ever survived these exercises. The cadets are
on the field!" he cried. "Go to your deaths, worms!"

"To your stations, worms!" I commanded. The prisoners laughed as they
took their allotted positions: the first ten in the front line, each with
his partner behind him. I was near the center of the line. Han Du and Pho
Lar were on the flanks. We marched forward as we had practiced it in our
cell, all in step, the men in the rear rank giving the cadence by chanting,
"Death to the Morgors!" over and over. We kept intervals and distance a
little greater than the length of an extended sword arm and sword.

It was evident that the Morgors had never seen anything like that at
a commencement exercise, for I could hear the hollow sound of their exclamations
of surprise arising from the stands; and the cadets advancing to meet us
were seemingly thrown into confusion. They were spread out in pairs in
a line that extended almost all the way across the field, and it suddenly
became a very ragged line. When we were about twenty-five feet from this
line, I gave the command, "Charge!"

We ten, hitting the center of their line, had no odds against us: the
Morgors had spread their line too thin. They saw swordsmanship in those
first few seconds such as I'll warrant no Morgor ever saw before. Ten Morgors
lay dead or dying on the field, as five of our first ten wheeled toward
the right, followed by our partners; and our remaining ten men wheeled
to the left.

As we had not lost a man in the first onslaught, each ten was now pitted
against fifteen of the enemy. The odds were not so heavily against us.
Taking each half of the Morgor line on its flank, as we now were, gave
us a great advantage; and we took heavy toll of them before those on the
far flanks could get into action, with the result that we were presently
fighting on an almost even footing, our partners having now come into action.

The Morgors fought with fanatic determination. Many of them were splendid
swordsmen, but none of them was a match for any of our first ten. I caught
an occasional glimpse of Pho Lar. He was magnificent. I doubt that any
swordsman of any of the three worlds upon which I had fought could have
touched Pho Lar, Han Du, or me with his point; and there were seven more
of us here almost as good.

Within fifteen minutes of the start of the engagement, all that remained
was the mopping up of the surviving Morgors. We had lost ten men, all of
the first ten swordsmen having survived. As the last of the Morgors fell,
one could almost feel the deathly silence that had settled upon the audience.

The nine gathered around me. "What now?" asked Pho Lar.

"How many of you want to go back to slavery?" I asked.

"No!" shouted nine voices.

"We are the ten best swords on Eurobus," I said. "We could fight our
way out of the city. You men know the country beyond. What chance would
we have to escape capture?"

"There would be a chance," said Han Du. "Beyond the city, the jungle
comes close. If we could make that, they might never find us."

"Good!" I said, and started at a trot toward a gate at one end of the
field, the nine at my heels.

At the gateway, a handful of foolish guardsmen tried to stop us. We
left them behind us, dead. Now we heard angry shouts arising from the field
we had left, and we guessed that soon we should have hundreds of Morgors
in pursuit.

"Who knows the way to the nearest gate?" I demanded.

"I do," said one of my companions. "Follow me!" and he set off at a
run.

As we raced through the avenues of the drear city, the angry shouts
of our pursuers followed us; but we held our distance and at last arrived
at one of the city gates. Here again we were confronted by armed warriors
who compelled us to put up a stiff battle. The cries of the pursuing Morgors
grew louder and louder.

Soon all that we had gained would be lost. This must not be! I called
Pho Lar and Han Du to my side and ordered the remaining seven to give us
room, for the gateway was too narrow for ten men to wield their blades
within it advantageously.

"This time we go through!" I shouted to my two companions as we rushed
the surviving guardsmen. And we went through. They hadn't a chance against
the three best swordsmen of three worlds.

Miraculous as it may seem, all ten of us won to freedom with nothing
more than a few superficial scratches to indicate that we had been in a
fight; but the howling Morgors were now close on our heels. If there is
anything in three worlds that I hate, it is to run from a foe; but it would
have been utterly stupid to have permitted several hundred angry Morgors
to have overtaken me. I ran.

The Morgors gave up the chase before we reached the jungle. Evidently
they had other plans for capturing us. We did not stop until we were far
into the tropical verdure of a great forest; then we paused to discuss
the future and to rest, and we needed rest.

That forest! I almost hesitate to describe it, so weird, so unearthly
was it. Almost wholly deprived of sunlight, the foliage was pale, pale
with a deathlike pallor, tinged with rose where the reflected light of
the fiery volcanoes filtered through. But this was by far its least uncanny
aspect: the limbs of the trees moved like living things. They writhed and
twined -- myriad, snakelike things. I had scarcely noticed them until we
halted. Suddenly one dropped down and wrapped itself about me. Smiling,
I sought to disentwine it. I stopped smiling: I was as helpless as a babe
encircled by the trunk of an elephant. The thing started to lift me from
the ground, and just then Han Du saw and leaped forward with drawn sword.
He grasped one of my legs, and at the same time sprang upward and struck
with the keen edge of his blade, severing the limb that had seized me.
We dropped to the ground together.

"What the devil!" I exclaimed. "What is it? and why did it do that?"

Han Du pointed up. I looked. Above me, at the end of a strong stem,
was a huge blossom -- a horrible thing! In its center was a large mouth
armed with many teeth, and above the mouth were two staring, lidless eyes.

"I had forgotten," said Han Du, "that you are not of Eurobus. Perhaps
you have no such trees as these in your world."

"We certainly have not," I assured him. "A few that eat insects, perhaps,
like Venus's-flytrap; but no maneaters."

"You must always be on your guard when in one of our forests," he warned
me.

"These trees are living, carnivorous animals. They have a nervous system
and a brain, and it is generally believed that they have a language and
talk with one another."

Just then a hideous scream broke from above us. I looked up, expecting
to see some strange, Jupiterian beast above me, but there was nothing but
the writhing limbs and the staring eyes of the great blossoms of the man-trees.Han
Du laughed. "Their nervous systems are of a low order," he said, "and their
reactions correspondingly slow and sluggish. It took all this time for
the pain of my sword cut to reach the brain of the blossom to which that
limb belongs."

"A man's life would never be safe for a moment in such a forest," I
commented.

"One has to be constantly on guard," admitted Han Du. "If you ever have
to sleep out in the woods, build a smudge. The blossoms don't like smoke.
They close up, and then they cannot see to attack you. But be sure that
you don't oversleep your smudge."

Vegetable life on Jupiter, practically devoid of sunlight, has developed
along entirely different lines from that on earth. Nearly all of it has
some animal attributes and nearly all of it is carnivorous, the smaller
plants devouring insects, the larger, in turn, depending upon the larger
animals for sustenance on up to the maneaters such as I had encountered
and those which Han Du said caught and devoured even the hugest animals
that exist upon this strange planet.We posted a couple of guards, who also
kept smudges burning; and the rest of us lay down to sleep. One of the
men had a chronometer, and this was used to inform the men on guard when
to awaken their reliefs. In this way, we all took turns watching and sleeping.

When all had slept, the smudges were allowed to burn more brightly,
the men cut limbs from the living trees, sliced them and roasted them.
They tasted much like veal. Then we talked over our plans for the future.
It was decided that we should split up into parties of two or three and
scatter; so that some of us at least might have a chance to escape recapture.
They said that the Morgors would hunt us down for a long time. I felt that
we would be much safer remaining together, as we were ten undefeatable
sword-arms; but as the countries from which my companions came were widely
scattered; and, as naturally, each wished if possible to return to his
own home, it was necessary that we separate.

It chanced that Han Du's country lay in the general direction of Zanor,
as did Pho Lar's; so we three bid goodby to the others and left them. How
I was to reach faraway Zanor on a planet of twenty-three billion square
miles of area, I was at some loss to conceive. So was Han Du. He told me
that I would be welcome in his country -- if we were fortunate enough to
reach it; but I assured him that I should never cease to search for Zanor
and my mate.

NineTO ZANOR!I SHALL NOT BORE YOU with an account of that part of my odyssey which
finally brought me to one of the cities of Han Du's country. We kept as
much to cover as we could, since we knew that if Morgors were searching
for us they would be flying low in invisible ships. Forests offered us
our best protection from discovery, but there were wide plains to cross,
rivers to swim, mountains to climb.

In this world without night, it was difficult to keep account of time;
but it seemed to me that we must have traveled for months. Pho Lar remained
with us for a great deal of the time, but finally he had to turn away in
the direction of his own country. We were sorry to lose him, as he had
developed into a splendid companion; and we should miss his sword, too.

We had met no men, but had had several encounters with wild beasts --
creatures of hideous, unearthly appearance, both powerful and voracious.
I soon realized the inadequacy of our swords as a sole means of defense;
so we fashioned spears of a bamboolike growth that seemed wholly vegetable.
I also taught Han Du and Pho Lar how to make bows and arrows and to use
them. We found them of great advantage in our hunting of smaller animals
and birds for food. In the forests, we subsisted almost wholly on the meat
of the man-tree.

At last Han Du and I came within sight of an ocean. "We are home," he
said. "My city lies close beside the sea." I saw no city.We had come down
out of some low hills, and were walking across a narrow coastal plain.
Han Du was several yards to my right, when I suddenly bumped into something
solid -- solid as a brick wall; but there was nothing there! The sudden
collision had caused me to step back. I stretched out my hands, and felt
what seemed to be a solid wall barring my way, yet only a level expanse
of bare ground, but the ground was not entirely bare. It was dotted, here
and there, with strange plants -- a simple, leafless stock a foot or two
tall bearing a single fuzzy blossom at its top.

I looked around for Han Du. He had disappeared! He had just vanished
like a punctured soap bubble. All up and down the shore there was no place
into which he could have vanished, nothing behind which he would have hidden,
no hole in the ground into which he might have darted. I was baffled. I
scratched my head in perplexity, as I started on again toward the beach
only to once more bump into the wall that was not there.

I put my hands against the invisible wall and followed it. It curved
away from me. Foot by foot, I pursued my tantalizing investigation. After
a while I was back right where I had started from. It seemed that I had
run into an invisible tower of solid air. I started off in a new direction
toward the beach, avoiding the obstacle which had obstructed my way. After
a dozen paces I ran into another; then I gave up -- at least temporarily.

Presently I called Han Du's Dame aloud, and almost instantly he appeared
a short distance from me. "What kind of a game is this?" I demanded. "I
bump into a wall of solid air and when I look for you, you are not anywhere,
you have disappeared."

Han Du laughed. "I keep forgetting that you are a stranger in this world,"
he said. "We have come to the city in which I live. I just stepped into
my home to greet my family. That is why you could not see me." As he spoke,
a woman appeared beside him, and a little child. They seemed to materialize
out of thin air. Had I come to a land of disembodied spirits who had the
power to materialize? I could scarcely believe it, as there was nothing
ghostly nor ethereal about Han Du.

"This is O Ala, my mate," said Han Du. "O Ala, this is John Carter,
Prince of Helium. To him we owe my escape from the Morgors."

O Ala extended her hand to me. It was a firm, warm hand of flesh and
blood. "Welcome, John Carter," she said. "All that we have is yours."

It was a sweet gesture of hospitality; but as I looked around, I could
not see that they had anything. "Where is the city?" I asked.

They both laughed. "Come with us," said O Ala. She led the way, apparently
around an invisible corner; and there, before me, I saw an open doorway
in thin air. Through the doorway, I could see the interior of a room. "Come
in," invited O Ala, and I followed her into a commodius, circular apartment.
Han Du followed and closed the door. The roof of the apartment was a dome
perhaps twenty feet high at its center. It was divided into four rooms
by sliding hangings which could be closed or drawn back against the wall.

"Why couldn't I see the house from the outside?" I asked.

"It is plastered on the outside with sands of invisibility which we
find in great quantities along the beach," explained Han Du. "It is about
our only protection against the Morgors. Every house in the city is thus
protected, a little over five hundred of them."

So I had walked into a city of five hundred houses and seen only an
expanse of open beach beside a restless sea. "But where are the people?"
I asked. "Are they, too, invisible?"

"Those who are not away, hunting or fishing, are in their homes," explained
O Ala. "We do not venture out any more than is necessary, lest Morgors
be cruising around in their invisible ships and see us; thus discovering
our city."

"If any of us should be thus caught out," said Han Du, "he must run
away from the city as fast as he can, for if he entered a house, the Morgors
would immediately know that there was a city here. It is the sacrifice
that each of us is in honor bound to make for the safety of all, for he
who runs is almost invariably caught and carried away, unless he chooses
to fight and die."

"Tell me," I said to Han Du, "how in the world you found your house,
when you could not see it or any other house."

"You noticed the umpalla plants growing throughout the city?" he asked.

"I noticed some plants, but I saw no city."

They both laughed again. "We are so accustomed to it that it does not
seem at all strange to us," said O Ala, "but I can understand that it might
prove very confusing to a stranger. You see, each plant marks the location
of a house. By long experience, each of us has learned the exact location
of every house in the city in relation to every other house."

I remained for what may have been five or six days of earth time in
the home of Han Du and O Ala. I met many of their friends, all of whom
were gracious and helpful to me in every way that they could be. I was
furnished with maps of considerable areas of the planet, parts of which,
I was told, were still unexplored even by the Morgors. Of greatest value
to me was the fact that Zanor appeared on one of the maps, which also showed
that a vast ocean lay between me and the country in which I believed Dejah
Thoris to be. How I was to cross this ocean neither I nor my new found
friends could offer a suggestion, other than the rather mad scheme I envisioned
of building a sail boat and trusting myself to the mad caprices of an unknown
sea perhaps swarming with dangerous reptiles. But this I at last decided
was the only hope I had for being again reunited with my princess.

There was a forest several miles along the coast from the city, where
I might hope to find trees suitable for the construction of my craft. My
friends tried their best to dissuade me; but when they found that I was
determined to carry out my plan, they loaned me tools; and a dozen of them
volunteered to accompany me to the forest and help me build my boat.At
last all was in readiness; and, accompanied by my volunteer helpers, I
stepped from the house of Han Du to start the short march to the forest.Scarcely
were we in the open when one of my companions cried, "Morgors!" Whereupon
the Savators scattered in all directions away from their city."Run, John
Carter!" shouted Han Du, but I did not run.A few yards distant, I saw the
open doorway in the side of an invisible ship; and I saw six or seven Morgors
emerge from it. Two rushed toward me; the others scattered in pursuit of
the Savators. In that instant a new plan flashed across my mind. Hope,
almost extinct, leaped to life again.

I whipped my sword from its scabbard and leaped forward to meet the
first of the oncoming Morgors, thanking God that there were only two of
them, as delay might easily wreck my hopes. There was no finesse in my
attack: it was stark, brutal murder; but my conscience did not bother me
as I drew my sword from the heart of the first Morgor and faced the second.

The second fellow gave me a little more trouble, as he had been forewarned
by the fate of his companion; and, too, he presently recognized me. That
made him doubly wary. He commenced to howl to the others, who were pursuing
the Savators, to come back and help him, bellowing that here was the creature
from Garobus who had led the slaughter at the graduating exercises. From
the corner of an eye, I saw that two of them had heard and were returning,
I must hurry!

The fellow now fought wholly on the defensive in order to gain time
for the others to join him. I had no mind to permit this, and I pressed
him hard, often laying myself wide open -- a great swordsmen could have
killed me easily. At last I reached him with a mighty cut that almost severed
his head from his body; then, with only a quick glance behind me to see
how close the others were, I leaped toward the open doorway of the otherwise
invisible ship, a Morgor close upon my heels.

With naked blade still in my hand, I sprang aboard and closed the door
behind me; then I wheeled to face whatever of their fellows had been left
aboard to guard the craft. The fools had left no one. I had the ship all
to myself; and as I ran to the controls I heard the Morgors beating upon
the door, angrily demanding that I open it. They must have taken me for
a fool, too.

A moment later the ship rose into the air, and I was away upon one of
the strangest adventures of my life -- navigating an unknown planet in
an invisible craft. And I had much to learn about navigation on Jupiter.
By watching Vorion, I had learned how to start and stop a Morgor ship,
how to gain or lose altitude, and how to cloak the ship in invisibility;
but the instruments upon the panel before me were all entirely meaningless
to me. The hieroglyphs of the Morgors were quite unintelligible. I had
to work it all out for myself.

Opening all the ports, I had a clear field of vision. I could see the
shore I had just left, and I knew the direction of the coast line. Han
Du had explained this to me. It ran due north and south at that point.
The ocean lay to the west of it. I found an instrument which might easily
have been a compass; when I altered the course of the ship, I saw that
it was a compass. I now had my bearings as closely as it was possible for
me to get them. I consulted my map and discovered that Zanor lay almost
exactly southeast; so out across that vast expanse of ocean I turned the
prow of my ship.

I was free. I had escaped the Morgors unharmed. In Zanor, Dejah Thoris
was safe among friends. That I should soon be with her, I had no doubt.
We had experienced another amazing adventure. Soon we should be reunited.
I had not the slightest doubt of my ability to find Zanor. Perhaps it is
because I am always so sure of myself that I so often accomplish the seemingly
impossible.

How long I was in crossing that dismal ocean, I do not know. With Jupiter
whirling on its axis nearly three times as fast as earth, and with no sun,
moon, nor stars, I could not measure time.

I saw no ship upon that entire vast expanse of water, but I did see
life -- plenty of it. And I saw terrific storms that buffeted my craft,
tossing it about like a feather. But that was nothing compared with what
I saw below me as the storms at the height of their fury lashed the surface
of the waters. I realized then how suicidal would have been my attempt
to cross that terrible ocean in the frail craft that I had planned to build.
I saw waves that must have measured two hundred feet from trough to crest
-- waves that hurled the mighty monsters of the deep as though they had
been tiny minnows. No ship could have lived in such seas. I realized then
why I saw no shipping on this great Jupiterian ocean.

But at last I sighted land ahead -- and what land! Zan Dar had told
me of the mighty mountains of Zanor rearing their forested heads twenty
miles above the level of the sea, and it was such mountains that lay ahead
of me. If I had reckoned accurately, this should be Zanor; and these breath-taking
mountains assured me that I had not gone wrong.

I knew from Zan Dar's explanation, just where to search for the stamping
grounds of his tribe -- a wild mountain tribe of fighting men. They lay
in a land of meadows and ravines on the east slope of the highest mountain
and at an altitude of only about ten miles, or about half way to the summit.
Here the air is only slightly thinner than at sea level, as the cloud envelope
retains the atmosphere of Jupiter as though it were held in a bag, permitting
none of it to escape, while the rapid revolution of the planet tends to
throw the atmosphere far up from the surface.

Most fortunate was I in coming upon the village of Zan Dar with little
or no difficulty. Entirely invisible, I hovered above it, dropping down
slowly. I knew that the moment they saw a Morgor ship, they would disappear
into the forests that surrounded the village, waiting there to rush out
upon any Morgors who might be foolish enough to leave the ship after landing.

There were people in plain view of me in the village as I dropped to
within fifty feet of the ground. I stopped the ship and hung there, then
I demagnetized the hull; and, as the ship became instantly visible, I leaped
to the door and pushed it open; so that they could see that I was no Morgor.
I waved to them and shouted that I was a friend of Zan Dar, and asked permission
to land.

They called to me to do so, and I brought the ship slowly toward the
ground. My lonely voyage was over. I had surmounted seemingly unsurmountable
obstacles and I had reached my goal. Soon my incomparable Dejah Thoris
would be again in my arms.